


Nova

by MiniLop



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 75,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniLop/pseuds/MiniLop
Summary: After Zim crashes back into Dib's life, unfortunate circumstances force the two to flee to space. With the Irken Empire on their trail, the Almighty Tallest Red at the helm, how long can they really evade them? And how long before dark secrets are spilled?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I saw the new Zim movie and absolutely loved it, so here we are. A few changes have been made to lore and personality just to make a more cohesive narrative, please forgive me hardcore Zim fans
> 
> Did I make this children's show extremely melodramatic? You bet
> 
> This will mainly be a RaZr fic with some Dib/Zim so if that isn't your cup of tea, just be aware of that.
> 
> Strong Language and very Mild Gore in this chapter, Practice Self Care

A dimly lit apartment momentarily flashed fluorescent green as the bright lights of several computer screens all blinked on at once, the windows of the small flat glowing an eerie hue to anyone who happened to be passing by on the street. Luckily for the boy who lived inside, it was in the early hours of the morning, too dark to be called dawn but too hellishly late to be called night, as oxymoronic as that was. No one was out and about at this time. Dib woke with a start, groggily fumbling for his glasses on the night stand as the monitors stacked on his desk began to dim, the green alerts now flashing in small banners across the tops of all the computer screens. Finally affixing the lenses to his face, Dib stumbled over to the computers, hand instinctively finding the mouse in the early morning darkness.

“That can’t be right…” the young man murmured, the green banners reflecting on the lenses of his circular glasses.

“Item ‘Z’ has made contact,” the alert read. Swallowing thickly, Dib pushed his fingers beneath his glasses to pinch his eyes, wanting to ensure that he was in fact reading the words correctly. When he reopened his eyes, the green letters remained unchanged, causing Dib’s heartbeat to double.

“That can’t be right,” Dib croaked again, disbelief constricting his throat. After a beat of stillness Dib snatched his chair out from beneath his desk, throwing himself onto the seat as his fingers began flying across his keyboard.

Since Dib had been a child he had always been fascinated with the unknown. Cryptids, ghosts, but most of all, aliens. This was in no small part due to living right next door to one. No one had ever believed him of course, he had been very young at the time of first contact, around 11 or so. However, Dib had known at the very first second that there was something odd about the little boy next door. Somehow the rest of the town failed to notice the boy had a light green hue to his skin, the strange gadgets he fiddled with in class, nor the hellish little robot gremlin the alien boy tried to pass off as a dog. It had become Dib’s mission in life to expose the alien for what it was, and through many escapades had learned the strange creatures name. Zim.

For years the two had been at war, one trying to foil the other in their schemes. Zim was determined to prepare Earth, or “urth” as the alien had labeled it, for the coming invasion of Zim’s people. The Irken, led by two ruthless intergalactic warlords that Dib only ever came to know as “The Almighty Tallests.” Dib’s plans were, of course, to stop Zim’s diabolical plots and to protect the Earth from invasion.

As the years went by the two had come to know each other quite well, for better or for worse. Then, around the time Dib had entered middle school, Zim had simply vanished. The absence of the screeching green alien had driven Dib to near madness, the paranoia of missing a sign of life from the house next door caused Dib to become a shut in. However, through diligent watching Dib had caught the exact moment when Zim had reappeared nearly two years later. After a fairly catastrophic chain of world ending events, everything had returned to the status quo. Dib had saved the Earth with the aid of his sister Gaz, his father still remained aloof and disbelieving, and Zim had returned to his next door shenanigans.

Something had changed though, a shift in the relationship between Zim and Dib. There was less animosity and something akin to friendship blossomed between the two. There was still a sense of rivalry of course, the two often working in their labs in an attempt to “out gadget” the other but it was…comfortable. Zim even entered high school along with Dib, somehow fenagling his way into having the exact same schedule, presumably just to drive Dib mad. After “skool” Zim would often go to Dib’s house just to hang out, or Dib to Zim’s since Gaz absolutely terrified the alien boy. Learning to drive had certainly been interesting with Zim in the car. Very eventful, lots of swerving. Dib’s father even referred to Zim as Dib’s “best friend” and after a while Dib stopped refuting him. He had lost any reason to.

Near the end of their senior year, however, suddenly something shifted again. Zim became even more reclusive than usual. He missed classes more often than not, stopped returning Dib’s texts, and eventually ceased all contact completely. Zim had disappeared without a trace once again. Though Dib would be hard pressed to admit it, the sudden loss of contact had really hurt him.

They had been friends, hadn’t they?

Apparently not. It was Dib’s own fault he supposed. Zim had always warned him he was too soft, too kind, too quick to help. That had been his opinion on the human race as a whole really, but when Zim directed his vitriol towards Dib it had always felt cautionary rather than critical. Dib wasn’t sure what had happened to cause Zim’s sudden absence nor his melancholic attitude. He had never gotten the chance to find out.

Now, here he was in his third year of college, in a state of absolute panic because he had gotten an alert. Zim was in his immediate area. The tracker Dib attached to Zim, specifically to the pak attached to his back, had finally sounded off. Something about the alien technology Zim possessed rendered the tracker practically useless unless Zim was within a two mile radius. Licking his lips nervously, Dib pulled up a radar he had crafted and watched in awe as a tiny green dot blinked rhythmically within the radar’s circle. Zim was actually here. The dot blinked minutely forwards in the circle.

Zim was here and getting closer.

Dib jolted to his feet and sprinted over to the side of his bed, tugging on a black and white flannel shirt he had tossed to the ground before feeling desperately around to find a pair of jeans, not bothering to button up. Finally grasping a pair, Dip hopped across the bedroom floor, aggressively jamming his feet into the legs of his pants. Damn him and he penchant for skinny jeans. Finally decent, Dib vaulted over to his closet and pulled an object off of the top of his shelf, a small shower of dust raining down on him as he did so. His old brief case. Tearing it open, Dib scrambled around in its contents before grabbing his portable radar. Snatching his phone off the bed, charger hurtling across the floor, Dib jammed it in his back pocket and dashed out the door.

Several minutes later Dib found himself wandering down the street barefoot in an unbuttoned shirt, steadily bringing himself closer and closer to the green blinking dot. His breath came out in small clouds, the chilly autumn air sending small waves of goosebumps along his skin periodically. Biting his lip anxiously, Dib picked up his pace.

Steadily the dot became closer and closer, the anticipation causing Dib’s heart to lodge itself quite uncomfortably in his throat. Then, in the dim light of a dying street lamp Dib saw him. In the distance, against the early morning mist was Zim. The small burst of euphoria Dib felt upon actually _seeing _Zim was quickly crushed and swept away by a wave of dread. Something was wrong.

Zim was in the open, undisguised. And limping. Instinctively Dib rushed forwards, his bare feet hurtling across the near frozen ground. Upon hearing his approach Zim looked up, startled. His teeth were bared in a hiss and from his side an alien blade was pulled from a holster.

“Zim!” Dib cried breathlessly, flannel flapping behind him as he sprinted forwards. Upon the call of his name Zim’s fuchsia eyes widened and his snarl softened. Finally, the two were face to face.

“…Dib?” the alien questioned in an uncharacteristically soft voice, his large eyes focused on the young man before him. Mutely Dib nodded, his smile threatening to split his face, regardless of the foreboding circumstances. Zim stood there, clutching his side, appearing to be in just as much shock as Dib had been when his monitors first alerted him. Then, slowly, Zim removed his gloved hand from his side to reveal his palm. A pink fluorescent fluid overflowed from the glove, small droplets dripping down to softly splatter against the cracked asphalt. Zim’s blood.

Dib’s eyes widened before he let out a choked gasp, quickly pressing his own palm to Zim’s side to stave off the flow of blood. The cloth beneath Dib’s hand felt soaked and sticky.

Mind running a mile a minute, Dib quickly ripped off his flannel and sat it atop Zim’s head, hiding his visage from anyone who might be wandering out in the early morning.

“Come on, he have to get you out of sight.”

As the pair got nearer to Dib’s apartment Zim’s limp grew worse, the alien’s breath coming out in harsh pants. Dib swallowed thickly before setting his jaw. Stopping abruptly, he stepped behind Zim.

“What does the Dib thing think he is doing?” Zim hissed, eyes narrowing at Dib from beneath his flannel hood. Without responding Dib simply knelt down and swept Zim’s legs from beneath him so that he could carry him in his arms. Bridal style was the correct term but Dib didn’t want to think on that at this moment. Zim’s breath left him in a surprised huff as he was settled against Dib’s chest. Mentally thanking Gaz for encouraging him to take rock climbing lessons so he didn’t look like a “noodle limbed dip stick”, Dib began briskly walking with Zim in his arms, trying to be careful not to jostle Zim too much.

“If Dib thing ever mentions this…” Zim growled, a bright pink blush spreading across his pale green cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah," Dib huffed, “try threatening me again when you aren’t bleeding out.” Eventually the two made it up to Dib’s small apartment. Dib’s calves felt like they were on fire by the time he made it through the door but he managed to carefully sit Zim on his bed. Zim remained there quietly and watched Dib as he flew around his apartment, dashing to the bathroom to grab medical supplies.

Returning with bandages, alcohol, and gauze, Dib knelt down beside Zim to inspect the wound. Frowning as he peeled the soaked fabric of Zim’s tunic away from his skin, Dib decided he needed some answers. 

“Why didn’t your pak heal this?” he asked sternly, mentally assuring himself that he was very focused on the wound and that is why he was refusing to look at Zim’s face.

“Are you not angry with me?” Zim responded softly, avoiding the question entirely. Dib’s mouth twitched downwards before he smoothed out his expression again.

“Livid, actually. Now why didn’t your pak heal this?” Dib responded monotonously. Zim flinched, his two antennae twitching downwards before he hissed out a little sigh.

“My pak has healed a great deal of the injury already. It is simply in sub par condition. Zim’s pak has not been calibrated nor received maintenance in some time,” Zim revealed, wincing as Dib gently dabbed the blood on his side away with an alcohol soaked cloth. A few moments passed in silence before the question threatened to explode out of him.

“Where did you go?” Dib asked, his voice strained as he methodically bandaged Zim’s side. The alien’s eyes closed as if he were expecting that question all along.

“I had to go…away,” he responded cryptically.

“Away?” Dib parroted venomously, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Zim winced at the harshness in Dib’s toned and purposefully averted his eyes as Dib stood from the bedside to return the supplies to his bathroom. While there, Dib unearthed a relatively clean t shirt from his clothes hamper and pulled it over his head before running a hand through his black shock of hair. He had never managed to tame that particularly wild cowlick in his hair, other than simply cutting it shorter. He could blame the wonderful professor for passing on that particularly irritating trait. Huffing, Dib strode back into the living area of his flat to find Zim still perched atop his bed.

“I’m…” Dib exclaimed loudly, causing Zim to jump a bit. “I’m just so fucking confused, Zim.” With this, Dib began pacing, the floodgates now open.

“How could you just leave? You just disappeared! What the hell? Your house was empty, I _checked_, Zim. Do you have any idea how worried I was? Why didn’t you just talk to me? And now? It’s been three entire years, Zim. How did you find me? And what the hell happened to you, why are you injured?” Pausing to breathe, Dib finally looked over at Zim, his chest heaving slightly. There was a long beat of silence before Zim drew a steadying breath.

“I found you the same way you found me, Dib,” he began, his response causing Dib to scowl. “Yes, yes, I know that is not the question you want answered,” Zim huffed, averting his eyes to the floor, the wall, really anywhere but Dib.

“The story that is short is Zim found out some very…upsetting news about my mission to this horrid planet in our senior year at skool. This caused Zim to be…schmoopy, as you say, but…worse. Zim felt…very bad, so I left. I left the planet for a while…” Zim trailed off, his three appendage hands fiddling nervously in his lap.

“…and?” Dib prompted, suddenly feeling very tired, as if the events of the night all crashed down on him at once.

“I, Zim, was extremely upset, and in my silly emotions I may have done some things to upset some people…specifically _my_ people. Believe it or not, Zim was on his way back to urth to…to see you, when my ship was attacked. A small crew was sent to retrieve me and I, of course, refused. That is how I came to be injured. My ship ended up crashing near your location so I opted to find you on foot. That is all Zim has to tell,” he finished, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest. Nodding dumbly, Dib padded over to the bed and sat down heavily next to Zim.

“Why did you leave without telling me?” Dib asked quietly. Zim took a deep shuddering breath before flicking his eyes towards Dib’s direction.

“I felt as if I was worthless and…undeserving. I feel better now.” Dib’s throat spasmed painfully at the alien’s admission and something akin to relief washed over him.

“Well that’s dumb,” Dib replied hoarsely, “how could the all powerful Zim be undeserving.” At Dib’s little jab Zim cracked a small smile, his odd, almost crocodile like teeth gleaming in the faint light of the early dawn. The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, both attempting to come to terms with the other’s presence. Then a thought struck Dib.

“Wait, you said you were being tracked down? Hunted? By other Irkens, right? Do we need to be concerned about that?” Dib questioned worriedly. Zim narrowed his eyes and tapped his three fingers against his knee in contemplation.

“Most likely, yes,” he finally replied, his voice not betraying any worry or anxiousness. Dib couldn’t say the same.

“Zim, what the hell!” Dib squawked, jumping up from the bed to pace around his small room once again.

“What is Dib so worried about? We can simply evade them,” Zim stated dismissively.

“Evade them? They crashed your ship! Why is the Irken empire even after you?” Dib asked, exasperated. Zim’s face contorted into a scowl, his triangular teeth gleaming.

“Zim may have told My-, The Tallest some things that did not sit well with the other Irken,” Zim hissed cryptically. Dib sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“So…what do we do?” Dib asked, turning to Zim. Zim’s scowl fell and was instead replaced with a soft, surprised look.

“…’we’?” Zim repeated, his face the most vulnerable Dib had seen since middle school when he was having a “schmoopy” episode.

“Well, yeah…” Dib replied, “We’re friends, right?” he finished quietly, shuffling his bare feet on the hardwood. There was a long pause where Zim simply stared up at Dib, his eyes looking somewhat glossier than they usually did. Then he blinked and it was gone.

“Yes, we are friends,” Zim finally murmured, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dib let a smile of his own break across his face.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?”

Turns out the plan was simple. Fix Zim’s ship and get the hell off of the planet. It took very little convincing for Dib to agree to leave Earth. The call of being a “space marauder” was much too strong to turn down. Besides, he could always take his classes online since Zim assured Dib he would provide wifi. Dib couldn’t miss his ghost hunting podcast, damn it. Dib had packed a couple bags of essentials, clothing, some food, every piece of tech in the house. Then the two were in Dib’s Jeep, heading towards Zim’s crash sight.

“So, where’s Gir?” Dib asked as he turned down a rural road, way out of town. Eventually he would have to drive off of the road, he was sure. Good thing he opted for an off roading vehicle. All the better to hunt cryptids and what not.

“He is attempting to repair the ship, or at least that is what I instructed him to do,” Zim replied as he fiddled with a gadget Dib didn’t recognize but he’d be willing to bet his tuition it was a weapon. After a few more minutes Dib did indeed have to drive off of the road, the two heading into a small span of woods outside of town. They eventually had to abandon the Jeep when the trees got too thick, much to Dib's dismay. Just as Dib was preparing to text Gaz his coordinates so she could pick up his car, Zim slapped a small button on the side of the Jeep then it was gone.

“…Zim…” Dib began, his fingers frozen on his phone screen.

“Oh relax, Dib Stink, I simply returned your land vehicle to your home,” Zim replied dismissively. Sighing, Dib opted to tell Gaz he would be out of town for a while and jammed his phone into his back pocket. After a short bit of walking the pair finally reached Zim’s ship, the pink and red vehicle glinting in the small patches of sun that made their way through the trees. As he got closer Dib was able to make out a small green form jumping spasticly about the small space craft.

“Hey Gir,” Dib called, causing Zim to sigh dramatically beside him. At Dib’s call the small green “dog” stopped its movements and bolted upright before slowly turning to face the duo approaching the ship.

“Dib!” Gir screeched in his high pitched metallic voice, tripping over himself to dash towards the human. Dib knelt down and accepted the oncoming hug, chuckling softly as Gir attempted to bury himself within Dib’s hoodie. Zim frowned and eventually pried Gir off of Dib, pulling Dib up by the material of his shirt.

“Yes, yes, we are all happy to see Dib Stink, now tell me what is the progress of Zim’s ship,” Zim hissed at the little robot. Dib had forgotten how deceptively strong Zim was and was taken aback when the alien was able to haul him up from the ground with little to no problem. That was when Dib really took a look at Zim, eyeing him from head to toe. Zim had grown taller in their years apart but was still significantly shorter than Dib, only coming up to his mid chest. Not only that, Zim was had also become leaner, with small compacted muscles lining his arms and legs. More of a runner’s body than Dib’s, who had somewhat broadened with age and exercise.

“You’ve grown a bit,” Dib commented offhandedly, interrupting Zim’s conversation with the small robot. Zim paused and turned to assess Dib, his expression unreadable.

“As have you, Dib Stink. You have gotten…taller,” Zim murmured, his eyes narrowed. Dib nodded, giving a little shrug. His father, Professor Membrane, was a tall man, over six foot five, so it made sense that Dib would be tall as well. If Dib had to guess, he himself probably clocked in at 6,3” while Zim seemed to have reached his peak height at just above five feet. Zim returned to repairing his ship without another word so Dib sat his bags down and began helping.

After some time, the ship was back to being space worthy, and the trio all loaded into the cockpit.

“It’s a little cramped in here,” Dib commented as he drew his legs closer to his chest, the seat of the ship too shallow for him to totally extend them. Flipping a few switches on the control panel, Zim cast Dib a sideways glance.

“Yes, it seems to me that we will have to purchase a ship with more living space. To be telling the truth, Zim did not expect you to accompany me,” the alien responded shortly. Dib simply hummed in response, glad to know he wouldn’t have to stay in the fetal position for their entire space journey. Meanwhile Gir flitted about the back of the ship, loudly pressing buttons and flipping switches, clanging and crashing all the way. He may be a defective little robot but he managed to get things done in his own way. Eventually.

“Ready, Master!” Gir shrieked, causing Dib to wince. Then the diminutive bot hopped up to sit between Dib and Zim, placing a small hand on each of their arms respectively. It was really rather cute, if Dib was being honest. Gir was small, silly, and sweet like a child, ignoring all the advanced weaponry hidden within his tiny body. Zim was a bit like the parent and Dib the step parent. He was about to make a comment to Gir but when Dib looked up Zim had an almost maliciously excited look on his face.

“Hold on to your puny human splanch,” Zim sneered suddenly as he grabbed the steering handles of the ship.

“My human what?” Dib squawked, but there was no time to answer. Almost instantly the ship careened upwards then blasted into the sky, the trees swaying and cracking away from them. Dib's whole body was thrust against his seat, the force of the blast nearly immobilizing him as they jettisoned further and further into the air. Just as Dib was about to shout out a complaint the words died in his throat. The blue sky of Earth had been replaced with endless inky blackness smattered with stars. They were in space. The beautiful sight of the colorful cosmos momentarily took Dib’s breath away as the Earth shrank until it was no longer visible behind him. This is what he dreamed of.

“So, first order of business is finding a larger ship, preferably one without a distinct Irken design,” Zim informed him, pulling Dib out of his stupor.

“Okay, but you need to tell me what happened. I can’t help you if I’m always left in the dark. We’re partners now, Zim,” Dib said sternly, knowing how much Zim hated being told he needed help. As expected, Zim grimaced and remained silent. Between them Gir fidgeted nervously, as if he could detect the oncoming argument. Dib sighed and turned his head back towards his window, opting to take in the beauty of space rather than dwell on Zim’s stubbornness. They were well past the Sun now, having long since excited Dib’s galaxy. Irken spaceships were incredible, Dib mused to himself.

“My mission to Urth was a fraud,” Zim murmured quietly after several minutes had passed, the ship effortlessly weaving between stars and space debris. Startled, Dib turned back to address Zim.

“What do you mean, fraud? They weren’t planning on taking over Earth?” Dib asked, confused. Zim shook his head angrily, antennae quivering in indignation.

“Not only that, but the Tallest sent me away solely to rid themselves of my presence,” the small Irken hissed, hurt and anger evident in his usually bombastic voice. Dib swallowed and tried to take this information in. This must have been the news that drove Zim into despair. He had always been so devout to his leaders, this must have come as an enormous shock. Dib felt a pang in his chest as he imagined Zim, alone and betrayed. Heart broken…or spooch broken?

“I’m sorry…” Dib muttered, “How did you find out?”

“My Tall-, The Tallest Red informed me on one of our routine video transmissions. I asked if or when I would ever be permitted to return to the Massive,” Zim replied, emotion thick in his voice.

“The Massive…that’s your people’s command ship, right?” Dib inquired, doing his best to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Yes, The Tallest themselves are on the helm of that ship,” Zim replied shortly. “Tallest Red informed me that I was allowed back on the Massive, but had to be kept under close supervision. However, when Zim asked when they planned on invading Urth Tallest Purple stepped in and revealed to me that they never planned on invading. They just needed me away from other Irken so that I would cause no more destruction,” Zim finally grit out, his two antennae erratically twitching and eyes glossing with anger or hurt, Dib couldn’t tell.

“So I assume you told them to fuck off,” Dib retorted, his mouth quirking down into a frown.

“Not in so many words, but essentially, yes,” Zim muttered. “At first, I was extremely upset, as was evident in my sudden absence. I disconnected my pak from the Irken control network, shut off all communication with the empire, and left my base on urth entirely. This is why my pak is not in optimal form.” Zim’s jaw was set in a hardened line and his brow was furrowed in a resentful scowl.

“I am essentially an Irken fugitive at this point, a deserter,” he finished quietly, eyes steely as they stared in to the expanse of space .

“So how did the Irkens that attacked you find you?” Dib questioned, readjusting his legs in the small cockpit.

“There are three possibilities,” Zim informed him, holding one hand up to display all of his fingers. “The first option is that they are tracking Gir. Since he is a SIR unit crafted by Irken elites it makes sense that they would be able to locate him, though I find this the most unlikely since Gir is defective.” One finger down.

“Second, they may be able to track this ship, even though I have done my best to counter this. We will remedy this by purchasing a ship of non Irken craft. “Zim lowered his second finger but made no move to explain further.

“And…third?” Dib prompted, concerned by Zim’s hesitation.

“Third…” Zim sighed, “is that the Tallest, specifically Tallest Red, is able to track Zim because it is within our, as you humans say, ‘DNA’.” At that admission Dib’s eyes widened almost comically.

“What, so you're saying they can pinpoint where you are no matter what we do?” Dib exclaimed, sitting up in his seat.

“Pin point, no, it is more like a compass. They can vaguely sense my presence and direction if they so choose to. It is stronger the closer the distance. It is not even both of them, most likely it is only Tallest Red,” Zim finished, resting his hand back on the steering wheel of the ship. Dib sat back in his chair, letting out a huff of air as it all sank in. Something in the back of his mind hissed that he needed to ask why Tallest Red would have this connection but he stifled it.

“So, we get a new ship and keep moving, then they won’t be able to track us as easily,” Dib stated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“That is the plan, yes,” Zim confirmed, fingers tapping the steering wheel anxiously.

“Alright then. Let’s go get us a ship.”

Dib had imagined a large junkyard or maybe even a car lot. He had not imagined a planet around the size of Earth’s moon to be comprised entirely of ships. The shipyard took up the whole expanse of the terrain, no plants or water, aside from the occasional strange space weed. It was as if the planet itself was comprised of space debris and metal junk. For all he knew, it very well could be. Zim parked their ship and glanced towards Dib, who was currently staring slack jawed at their surroundings.

“It is best if we complete this transaction quickly. This planet is within Irken territory and we should not stay put here too long,” Zim instructed before hopping out of the cockpit, Gir following shortly behind his master. Dib straightened his glasses and followed suit.

In his time with Zim, Dib had put a lot of effort into learning the Irken language. He could understand it decently enough but it was very difficult for him to speak it. Their speech consisted of not only words, but a myriad of other sounds as well. Insect like was the best description Dib could give. There were chirps, whirs, clicks, and purrs, melodic at times, harsh at others. Dib couldn’t quite get the rhythm down when he attempted to replicate their speech pattern. It would only get better with practice he supposed. Humans were excellent mimics after all.

Luckily, he didn’t have to be fluent to know what the ship dealer and Zim were arguing about. The dealer didn’t like trading with Irken.

Zim was speaking almost erratically, his serpentine tongue doing overtime as Zim clicked and hissed at the dealer, near demanding he take Zim’s ship. The dealer reminded Dib of a prehistoric tortoise, shell and plates covering the majority of his large bulk. Even though the dealer towered over Zim by at least two feet he was clearly intimidated by the little Irken hissing up at him. Dib was just barely able to make out the conversation.

“_You will buy my ship then sell me one in return, and be happy about it, you rock dwelling symbiont of a subspecies,_” Zim spat, scythe like antennae erect and pointed angrily towards the other alien as he jabbed a clawed finger towards the dealer. Dib nearly snorted. Zim really did have a way with words. The large turtle alien took a step backwards and huffed, hands up in a gesture of defense.

“_You Irken think you can just plow through the universe and own whatever you want,” _he growled, his voice low and baritone, words coming out slow from between his large tusks.

“_That is because we can, you scum sucking fool. However, I am not affiliated with the empire so give me a damned ship and I will get off this Irk forsaken rock,” _Zim seethed, fuchsia eyes narrowed to near slits. The dealer seemed to ponder this for a moment before letting out a great huff, lumbering slowly over towards a small building. Zim straightened, his antennae laying flat against his head once more. Dib gave an amused huff as Zim brushed off his pink tunic.

“Well, let’s go pick out our ship,” Zim instructed smoothly, like he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes hysterically dragging some poor hillbilly alien for the entirety of his life. A short while later, Zim was rapidly flipping alien coins into stacks before sliding a small portion of them towards the dealer.

"_This should suffice,” _Zim stated to the dealer, the gruff alien taking the coins in his palm, nodding lethargically. Zim twirled around, chin held high in his usual arrogant manner as he gestured for Dib to follow him. Rolling his eyes, Dib indulged him.

The new ship wasn’t anything like Zim’s personal cruiser had been. If Zim’s former ride was a sports car their new ship was a small camper. There was much more space, bedrooms, a cargo hold, and a much bigger cockpit. The outside was a deep metallic blue, with silver accents, blending in well to the black background of space. Dib preferred the flashy Irken pinks, red, and blacks but he wasn’t foolish enough to state that.

“Wow, he really gave you enough for your ship so that you could buy this huge thing?” Dib questioned, striding around the new space as Zim calibrated the control panel.

“Oh please, Dib stink,” Zim replied haughtily, “he gave me that and much more. Irken craft is the best in the universe. This ship is nothing in comparison.”

“Then how do you expect to out maneuver the other Irken?” Dib frowned.

“Because, silly partner, you and I will be making some changes,” Zim smirked, quirking an eyebrow at Dib as he started the ships engines.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Dib replied mischievously.

Surprisingly, the first week or so of their space journey went fairly smoothly. They stopped at what Dib could only describe as a giant outlet mall but…in space. Both he and Zim acquired new clothing, and Gir even picked out a little jacket to wear outside of the ship. For himself, Dib chose black ankle boots that were equipped with small rockets in the soles because, yes, rockets please. Strategically, if Dib were ever on a planet with too little gravity or in space itself, these shoes still allowed him to maneuver out of harms way but really, who wouldn’t buy black rocket boots. They’re the rollerblades of space.

Along with the new shoes he selected a few pairs of pants that acted as a thin space suit, protecting his “puny human body of barely functioning goo” as Zim lovingly phrased it. The fabric was around the same thickness as jeans would be but they adhered tightly to his body and didn’t impair his movements at all. There were zippered pockets on his hips, backside, and thighs, which was incredibly convenient for stuffing gadgets into. Most of the pants were gray or deep blue, or some varying shade in between. Dib chose the same space faring material for his shirts as well, the fabric feeling and fitting like long sleeved athletic wear, thin and flexible. Dib selected one of every color available, just so he wasn’t looking like a space emo, though Gaz would probably appreciate that. Most of the shirts were still blues, grays, and blacks, but Dib managed to slip some reds and purples in as well.

New glasses were a must for him as well. At a particularly interesting stall Dib found glasses of every make and function, and decided to splurge on the best pair available. Zim hadn’t been too pleased at first but at Dib’s genuine joy he had acquiesced. Not only did these glasses allow him to see perfectly, they could also transform into what was appropriate for most situations. Underwater, in space, in the dark, in bright lights, these glasses could do it all. There were many sleek designs available but Dib went with his usual full moon lenses. He had grown attached to how they looked on his face and no other style seemed to suit him as well.

Zim begged Dib to buy a new jacket, saying his human tailor work was child’s play compared to alien craft. At first Dib had refused but eventually caved in, allowing Zim to drag him into a large clothing store. Dib would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it. His final selection was a long black trench coat, the fabric thick and heavy like hand worked leather. Apparently it was drafted from the hide of a large space monster resembling a serpent, or at least that is what the excited store keep had relayed to them. There were pockets abound and it fit his form flatteringly, with several buckles latticing up Dib’s torso. Zim smirked at the register as the two payed for the jacket, which would usually irk Dib but he was busy nursing his newfound love for the trench coat.

The trio left the space outlet mall with a large haul of food, clothing, general supplies, and an ungodly amount of sweets before loading up and heading out once again. Dib was in his cabin of the ship, trying on a new outfit to see how it all came together. Black ankle boots, light gray pants, a thin deep purple shirt, his new glasses, then finished up with his black trench coat. Looking at himself in the mirror, Dib couldn’t help but wish his shirt had a little design on it. Oh well, maybe he could fashion up a device to do that, it couldn’t be too hard. Aside from that, Dib did have to admit that he thought he looked quite nice. Well put together, if nothing else.

Stepping outside his cabin, Dib began making his way to the cockpit when he completely stilled. Zim had just excited his cabin as well and Dib felt his mouth dry a bit at the sight of him.

Zim, too, had made a few purchases at the mall, as was evident in his new outfit. His thick matte boots had been replaced with sleek thigh highs. The black leather like material wrapped itself tightly around Zim’s legs, accentuating the lithe curves of the alien’s muscles below several zippers and buckles. There were small chunk heels on the boots, raising Zim up at least three inches, and further accentuating Zim’s form.

Beneath the boots were black legging like garments, the material so thin Dib could see a slight hint of Zim’s pale green skin when the light hit it just right. Only a couple inches of the leggings could be viewed, because on top Zim wore something akin to a thin turtle neck dress. The hem of the garment danced a breath above his sleek black boots, the new top hugging Zim’s body tightly, as opposed to the looser fit of his Irken uniform. It was a deep and rich shade of pink, the thin material fitting snug as it snaked up Zim’s torso and down the length of his arms. Instead of the thick ribs of Zim’s former outfit, this top had intricate seams that laced vertically up his sides, the thread oddly metallic, glinting in the light as he moved. Just beneath the rim of the turtle neck Dib could see a black choker, similar in look to a wide velvet ribbon. It was surely a communicator, or some other functional device but it had a pleasing guise to it. Finally, sleek black gloves adorned Zim’s taloned hands, gleaming all the way up from his fingertips to his elbows. It was truly a reimagined design of his Irken uniform, one that still had all the aspects of Irk but with the expressive freedom of Zim himself.

“Wow,” Dib breathed, eyes skimming Zim from head to antennae, “you look great, Zim.” Instead of answering right away, Zim stared silently at Dib, his pupil-less fuchsia eyes roaming up Dib’s body as Dib had his. Dib swallowed nervously under the intense gaze of the Irken, opening and closing his fists at his sides.

“Yes…” Zim finally murmured, his expression unreadable as he met Dib’s eyes, “Dib looks pleasing as well.” At Zim’s admission Dib felt his cheeks warm, and he smiled bashfully at his boots.

“Yeah, I guess you were right, that mall did have some pretty sweet clothes,” Dib conceded, grinning up at Zim who was still eyeing him.

“Indeed,” Zim agreed quietly, eyes narrowing slightly. Clearing his throat, Dib took a few steps forwards and gestured towards the cockpit.

“Where to now, Captain?” he jested, earning a slight glare from Zim, but the alien did begin to walk with Dib towards the helm of the ship.

“Well, Dib Stink, we are making our way towards the location of the largest intergalactic black market in known space,” Zim replied curtly, sitting down in front of the control panel. Dib’s eyes widened as he took his respective seat next to Zim, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Sounds dangerous…” Dib mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Damn, he had forgotten to pack extra blades for his razor…they were going to have to stop somewhere like a convenience store soon. The rough stubble of his facial hair could already be felt on his chin as well as his cheeks and Dib really did not want to grow a beard. Made him feel a lot older than 22.

“Since when have you been afraid of danger?” Zim snorted dismissively. “You chased me through an inter-dimensional rift, yet now you are afraid of a little more shopping?” Zim questioned, raising one brow bone as his antenna twitched curiously.

“I’m just concerned about going places that could draw attention to you,” Dib admitted, scowling at Zim’s light insult. At this, Zim slowly nodded and his face became contemplative.

“I understand, Dib, but we must buy parts for our ship. We need the ability to warp and return fire if necessary, and this ship cannot properly perform those functions. This will be a long term gain,” Zim explained, his mouth set in a hard line. Dib knew he would never admit to it, but Zim was nervous too. His body language made that apparent. The Irken empire was demonstrably the deadliest force in all of known space, the Irken slowly but surely subjugating the residents of the universe and destroying entire planets should they refuse to bow. Not exactly the kind of people you want hunting you.

“Alright,” Dib agreed begrudgingly. “But we have to do this quick, in and out.”

“Agreed.”

*

Zim sat at the helm of the ship, calibrating the auto pilot as he prepared to go back to his cabin and rest. While Irken didn’t need to sleep, charge, or hibernate as much as the residents of other planets, there was a limit to their energy. Zim had seemed to have reached his, as his movements were becoming sluggish and his eyelids felt leaden.

“This lever controls the speed, you may change it as desired. Do not worry about fuel, this ship converts the energy reverberating throughout space into a usable power,” Zim explained to his partner, Dib, who was intently watching and listening to his every word.

“Gir will be here to assist you while I rest but…he is Gir, so…” Zim trailed off, glancing over towards the human.

“Yeah,” Dib huffed through a smile, “he’s Gir. But don’t worry, Zim, you know I’ve piloted ships before,” Dib assured him, gently taking Zim’s hands off of the control panel to replace with his own. Zim’s spooch jumped then settled again. Yes, definitely time to rest.

“Very well,” Zim relented, rising from his seat. “I will rest for five to ten hours, wake me if there is trouble. After I am rested, we will make our way to the black market,” he instructed, nodding for Gir to come take his seat.

“Don’t worry, Master,” the little robot squealed as it clamored up the chair, “we will takes good care of you!”

“That is what I am afraid of,” Zim muttered, causing Dib to huff out a laugh as the human fiddled with the control panel. Zim stared at the two a moment longer before turning towards his cabin. The walk to his room seemed so long in the vast ship, much bigger than his former Irken vehicle. Zim’s boot heels clinked methodically as he stepped, the clicks echoing quietly in the silent hull of the ship.

Zim reached the door to his room and as it hissed closed behind him, Zim let out a heavy sigh. The past few years had been…a lot, and this was the first time he felt he could truly rest. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Zim unbuckled and unzipped his boots, tugging them off of his long legs before peeling his tights down and off as well. While the garments were comfortable, they were not sleepwear. Then off came his gloves, and finally his tunic, the pink cloth fluttering to the floor softly. Clad only in his underthings, Zim crawled up his bed before burying himself beneath the blankets, curling into a tight ball. Dib often commented on his sleep positions to be similar to that of a cat’s, much to the irritation of Zim.

Dib. So much had changed about the human in their three year separation that Zim barely recognized him. His steely grey eyes were the still the same color, as was his thick dark hair, but he was no longer a child by human standards. Where he had always been taller than Zim, now he towered above him, Zim having to crane his neck to meet the Dib thing’s eyes. Much like…

Shaking his head, Zim rid himself of that thought. Back to Dib. As well as being taller, Dib’s body had broadened as well, the expanse of his chest, legs, and arms all much bulkier than they had been when Dib had been a smeetling. Or child, as the humans said. Even his face had changed, become gaunter, his cheeks and jaw defined and covered with a dark smattering of fuzz instead of being plump and smooth. Even Dib’s chest and arms had that dark fuzz on them, a thin line running down the center of his stomach to disappear beneath his pant things. Perhaps all humans became fuzzier as they aged.

And his stomach! It had…sections now. Before it had simply been a smooth expanse of hairless meat, but now it had hardened into little sections. Two large above his heart, pectorals if Zim recalled his skool lessons correctly, and four to six smaller running down his abdomen. Human muscles perplexed Zim to no end. Irken were born with a certain body shape as smeetlings and more or less remained in that general shape as they grew. If you were born thin you stayed thin, if you were born short you stayed short. Sure, they grew taller and their muscles became more defined but Irken muscles were designed to be lean and taut, not bulbous and bulky like human bodies.

Absentmindedly, Zim ran his fingers over his own arms, feeling the small swell of his muscles beneath his smooth, fuzzless skin. Dib claimed Zim had changed, but there was no way Zim’s body had altered with time to the extent that Dib’s had. Closing his eyes, Zim curled tighter into his little ball and let his mind drift away from those things. Now was the time for rest.

*

“You sure been starin’ at that map for a long time,” Gir commented as he crammed handfuls of colorful candies into his mouth, many of them falling to scatter across the floor. Dib cast a sideways glance to the robot before focusing his eyes back on the monitor, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“…this has been bothering me,” Dib replied darkly, tapping his finger on a small dot blipping on the edge of the ship’s radar. Gir leaned over on his chair to examine the screen, his round cyan eyes unblinking.

“This…whatever it is, had been following us for the last few hours,” Dib muttered, concern evident on his face. Gir sat silently for a moment, pausing his snack onslaught for the first time since he had sat down.

“Should I alert master?” Gir inquired finally.

“Alert master about what?”

Dib whirled around to see Zim walking towards them, looked well rested as he crossed the ship in his clicking boots. Dib couldn’t focus on those boots for too long so he quickly adhered his eyes to the radar once again. Zim picked Gir up then settled down into the seat, setting the little robot down on the floor to begin eating the candies that had fallen there. After adjusting his seat, Zim turned to Dib expectantly.

“Zim, something has been trailing us for the past two hours,” Dib murmured, gesturing towards the radar. Zim’s relaxed antennae immediately shot up in alert, then flattened against his head in concern. Sliding his hover chair closer to the radar, Zim immediately zoomed in on the anomaly.

“Why did you not wake me?” Zim demanded grimly, eyes narrowed as he inspected the screen.

“I was going to if it ever got closer but it has stayed a fixed distance from us, just on the edge of the radar,” Dib admitted, watching as Zim pulled a small laptop like device from a compartment beneath the control panel.

“That sounds deliberate on their part,” Zim analyzed, his six fingers flying across the alien keyboard. “It is as if they want us to know of their presence without approaching us.”

“I thought the same thing,” agreed Dib as he watched Zim work. After a few moments Zim’s eyes widened and his fingers stilled on his keyboard.

“It’s Irken, isn’t it,” Dib croaked.

“Yes,” Zim whispered, “but it is not part of the fleet.”

“What does that mean, then?” Dib asked anxiously, his heart hammering in his chest. Zim gave a short laugh, but it held no humor.

“You will not be believing this,” Zim muttered, “but they are no stranger to us.”

“Then who is it?” Dib all but yelled.

“It is Tak.”

“Tak?!”

One of the very few Irken Dib had ever encountered face to face was Tak. She was a female Irken, slightly taller in stature than Zim, but what she lacked in height she more than made up for with maliciousness. She held a personal grudge against both Zim and Dib, though Zim much more so. Zim had been responsible for Tak losing the opportunity to become an elite invader, one of the greatest honors of the Irken species, and Dib had foiled several of her schemes and absconded with her personal ship.

She had tried taking both their lives on various occasions throughout her time on Earth but around high school they made somewhat of a truce. Oddly enough, Tak and Dib’s sister Gaz had become acquaintances, and Gaz had convinced her to just let the boys be. Dib was sure the two girls had bonded over their mutual penchant for violence and a love for the color purple. Leaning back against his chair, Dib let a sigh rush out of him, deflating his body.

“Well,” he groused, “I guess we should see what she wants.” Zim hissed in response but didn’t argue, instead pulling up a communication device on the control panel.

A large screen was suddenly projected in front of them, static lines dancing about erratically. Then a crisp voice could be heard.

“Ah, so you have finally decided to contact me,” a sarcastic female voice sounded throughout the cockpit.

“What is it that you want from us?” Zim hissed back, antennae in a defensive position.

“It is urgent that I speak to you,” Tak responded, any mirth from her voice now gone.

“We are speaking now,” Zim retorted suspiciously, glancing over at Dib in concern. Eyes narrowed, Dib give a minute shrug.

“It must be in person, you know channels could very well be monitored,” Tak replied briskly, her voice icy but not unkind. At this Zim grimaced, remaining silent for a few moments. Breaking the silence, Dib leaned over towards the communicator’s mic.

“How should you board the ship? Or did you want to land?” Dib asked, hoping for clarification.

“Ah,” Tak murmured, “I did not realize you harbored the human brother with you. Gaz will be unhappy with this information.”

“Fuck…” Dib muttered, running a hand through his hair. In retrospect he probably should have mentioned to his sister he was traveling to space to become an intergalactic fugitive. It would probably be fine…probably.

“Um, yeah, sorry,” Dib apologized lamely, ignoring the seething death glare Zim was sending his way. “Just please ask her not to tell Dad.” At the mention of his father Zim’s eyes narrowed even further and he let out a few irritated clicks. Zim had never been terribly fond of the Professor, which Dib couldn’t blame him for. His father was a difficult person to get a read on.

“Oh please,” Tak dismissed, “your sister may love your father but she does not tell him anything.” Dib chuckled quietly and sat back in his seat, shooting Zim an apologetic smile.

“To answer your earlier question, Dib Brother, I believe it would be in your best interest if my ship stayed as far away from yours as possible. Do you have a teleportation deck on your ship?” Tak clarified.

“Yes,” Zim replied begrudgingly, obviously still not entirely sold on this idea. Dib recalled seeing the device himself, further inside the ship. It was about the size of an old telephone booth, but circular instead of angular. The wall of the teleportation device was glasslike and near two inches thick.

“Very well. I will be boarding shorty,” Tak informed them before a soft click was heard as she ended the transmission. Zim leaned back in his chair and sighed dramatically, covering his large eyes beneath his gloved hands.

“Well,” Dib groaned as he stood and stretched, “C’mon partner, let’s go see what she wants.” Zim grumbled about insubordination under his breath but followed Dib further into the ship.

The duo stood a few feet away from the teleporter and within a few minutes the device whirred to life. The inside of the machine began to glow vibrantly, Dib’s glasses automatically shading in response to the bright light. Suddenly, in a flash, Tak stood behind the glass doors.

Tak, too, had changed since Dib had last seen her. Her purple eyes remained the same angular shape and still gleamed with ambition, but her lashes had grown longer, as had her two spiraled antennae. Zim’s antennae where shaped like scythes, straight and long with small points on the ends, whereas Tak’s antennae were curled back behind her head, similar to a nautilus but more angular. She stood taller than Zim, even in Zim’s new heeled boots, but only marginally. Her Irken uniform was long in the back, almost brushing her ankles but remained short up front, riding above her knees to reveal heavy combat boots. The fabric was a deep purple, matching her eyes as most Irken uniforms did. Curving under her arms and over her breastbone to disappear behind her neck were two tubes, both connecting to the pale pink Pak upon her back.

Just as Zim’s body had, Tak had slimmed around her waist and torso, giving her a slightly curvier figure then she had when Dib had first encountered her as a child. It reminded Dib somewhat of a doll, nearly human but oddly stretched and distorted to be longer, more slender.

A small beauty mark adorned her left cheek bone and her lips were still ornamented with decorative black lines. The biggest change, however, was the symbol tattooed onto her forehead. A pale purple “V” embellished with a dot in the center, the Irken insignia, was painted above her brow, proudly centered on the crown of her head. The symbol of Irken Elites. She narrowed her sharp purple eyes at them momentarily before stepping out of the teleporter, her arms primly behind her slender back.

“Zim, Dib Brother,” she addressed them curtly, prompting Dib to dip his head at her in acknowledgement. Though he wasn’t looking at him, Dib could sense Zim’s resentment rolling off of him in waves.

“What was the important message you needed to tell us?” Dib prompted as Zim remained stoic at his side. Tak sent a questioning glance to Zim before she zeroed her deep purple gaze on Dib.

“I’ve come to warn you that the Almighty Tallest are aware of your presence and are actively searching for you,” Tak informed him, never one to mince words. Dib felt himself pale. He knew this was inevitable but it was still terrifying to hear confirmation.

“How are we to trust you?” Zim spat, startling Dib. “I cannot imagine an Irken so loyal as to be named Elite coming to the aid of fugitives.” The vitriol with which he said the word “elite” dripped from his lips like venom, causing Dib to wince beside him. Tak narrowed her eyes slightly at Zim but aside from that remained passive.

“Normally I would hunt you down and drag you to the Tallest’s feet myself,” Tak replied coolly, “however, I consider you to be an…acquaintance, and Dib Brother is important to Gaz. I was able to track you because I, personally, have planted a device within you that is in no way affiliated with the empire. They have not been able to pinpoint you…yet.”

“This qualifies as treason against the Empire,” Zim informed her flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am well aware,” Tak hissed, her patience finally beginning to thin.

“Only if the Empire founds out, though,” Dib stated grimly, causing both Irken to turn to him.

“…correct,” Tak agreed softly. Dib drew a deep breath then straightened up to his full height, Tak’s eyes widening a bit at the display.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Dib declared sternly. “We are still going to get the parts we need for the ship and continue evading them. This was the plan from the beginning, and we knew this would eventually happen.” Tak eyed him silently for a moment before nodding.

“Good to know you have a plan,” Tak commented, addressing Dib. “I will tell your sister of this, to ease her mind. Now, I need to speak to Zim privately.” Dib hesitated, glancing over at Zim. The alien wasn’t meeting his eyes but he did give a single curt nod.

“Okay…well, thank you for warning us, Tak. Take care of Gaz for me,” Dib called over his shoulder as he turned away, missing the slight surprise on Tak’s face. She then turned to Zim.

*

Zim listened intently until Dib’s heavy bootfalls were no longer audible, then he turned to face Tak. Keeping his eyes trained on hers was difficult, but he refused to let them drift to her forehead nor would he avert his gaze from hers. Looking at a fellow Irken’s feet as you spoke was acknowledgement that they were superior to you in status or skill, and Zim refused to kowtow to her, even as they symbol of her accomplishment and his failure was right there before him, mocking him silently. He would meet her eyes steadily as a show of equality, even as his spooch beat painfully within his chest.

“_You have not told him yet, have you_,” Tak accused, her level gaze unwavering.

“_Told who what?_” Zim clicked back in Irken, playing dumb just to irritate her. Tak hissed within her throat as her antennae twitched aggressively, a purely instinctual response.

“_You have not told the Dib Brother of your relation to Almighty Tallest Red,” _she spat back, baring her pointed teeth hiding behind her painted lips. Physically fighting the urge to recoil, Zim took a steadying breath.

_“Had. I have severed all ties to the Empire. There is no way we are still connected,” _Zim muttered, casting his eyes to the side.

_“It is within your genetic code, and you know this. You are simply trying to delude yourself,” _Tak declared, something akin to sympathy creeping into her voice. Swallowing hard, Zim cast her a steely glare.

_“But as the entire Empire must know, I am defective,” _Zim spat, the word “defective” worse than any curse ever uttered at him. “_Perhaps I am fully capable of diverting from my code. I will not be a plaything,” _Zim sneered coldly, displaying his own fangs. Tilting her head, Tak gazed hard into Zim’s eyes, as if she could read his thoughts.

“_You do not truly think this,” _she stated softly, her voice no longer confrontational. Unable to hold her gaze without becoming embarrassingly emotional, Zim averted his eyes to a window.

_“I must believe this…” _Zim admitted quietly. There were several beats of silence before Zim was able to meet the Elite’s eyes again.

“_You know why the Empire is searching for you…” _Tak murmured, her antennae downturned in a sign of sympathy.

_“I am sure the Tallest wish to delight themselves by punishing me,” _Zim spat, his own antennae angled upwards in spite. Tak shook her head.

“_Tallest Red is greatly upset. When you disconnected the Empire believed you had been expired.”_

_“Sorry to disappoint,” _Zim seethed, feeling his claws begin to protrude from his fingertips and toes, before forcefully willing them to retract.

“_You know that it not the case. Deny it or not, I know you can feel it,” _Tak replied calmly in stark contrast to Zim, who felt as if all his emotions were erupting at once. Words contracting in his throat, Zim found himself unable to respond as he tightly gripped his arms in an attempt to self soothe. Pathetically, a small whine escaped from within Zim’s chest, humiliation immediately coursing through his body.

How had he fallen so low as to seek comfort from a friend and elite? Instead of mocking him, Zim was astounded when Tak gently rested her forehead on his and began purring gently. After a moment of stunned silence, Zim closed his eyes and quietly purred back, their wavelengths eventually syncing. A few moments later Zim felt himself calm, and he and Tak gently pulled away from one another.

_“Your being is with me,” _Zim murmured, the phrase as old as Irk itself. It was an ancient verse, a way of expressing gratitude and other soft feelings that Irken didn’t often vocalize. The meaning could even be changed depending on the subject…your mind, heart, voice, it all depended on the occasion.

_“And yours mine,” _Tak finished softly. The two stood in silence for another beat before Tak swiftly turned on her heel and began striding towards the teleporter.

“I have been here long enough, soon I will become a liability,” she stated in English, her back turned to Zim. The clear door of the teleporter swiftly slid open, and as Tak stepped inside she turned to address Zim once again.

_“You cannot run away forever, Zim,” _she warned as the machine began to whir to life. _“After all, you were made for him.” _A bright flash of light and Tak was gone.

*

Now, of course Dib knew eavesdropping was almost never a good idea. It was rude and the listener could potentially hear things they would have been better never knowing at all. However, sometimes it was the only way to learn the truth.

Thus, Dib was posted by an air vent that just so happened to have a duct directly above where Zim and Tak were speaking. Hand over his mouth, Dib sat next to the vent and listened as hushed Irken voices reverberated and bounced through the metal. It had been a suspicion of his for a while now, but Tak had just confirmed that Zim was hiding something from him. In his chest Dib’s heart thudded quickly against his ribs, the adrenaline of learning secrets coursing through his veins.

Tallest Red? What was this weird connection Tak kept mentioning? Translating Irken to English was already difficult enough, but now Dib had to strain to even hear the hushed tones. He knew he was missing words, but Dib was getting the general gist of the conversation. Suddenly Tak was speaking in English again, announcing her leave. Standing up quickly, Dib prepared to head to the cockpit when he heard Tak speak again, this time in Irken.

“_After all, you were made for him.”_

Dib froze mid stance. The fuck was that supposed to mean? There wasn’t time to contemplate, as Dib could hear the teleporter activating. Bolting upwards, Dib quickly made his way to the front of the ship, trying to keep his footsteps quiet. He managed to sit down and put on a calm face moments before he heard Zim’s bootfalls approaching. The alien took his seat next to Dib and said nothing, instead he set about calibrating their trajectory on the control panel.

“So,” Dib began, straining to keep his voice calm, “what was that about?” Zim cast a sideways glance at Dib before focusing back on his task.

“She continued to warn me about the Empire,” Zim replied simply, making no move to explain further. Dib felt himself scowl. It wasn’t technically a lie, and that was what bothered him so much. Zim was so secretive and so crafty, usually things Dib appreciated, but being on the other side was something else entirely.

“Are you ready to continue our journey?” Zim asked suddenly, bringing Dib out of his thoughts.

“Sure,” Dib replied flatly, “let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm terrible at uploading but I don't abandon works. Just bookmark this baby if you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you..."soon".
> 
> So, as far as lore changes, I have  
-made the Irken change size as they mature  
-made the elite status hold more meaning  
among a few other things. Sorry if that bothered yall
> 
> Your comments mean everything to me, and I love constructive criticism. Hope you all enjoyed! See yall next time.
> 
> ~ML


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kudos, bookmarks, and especially your comments. They were all so wonderful, I couldn't stop smiling! Those comments inspired me to write quickly, so here we are. It is a little shorter but hey, it was quick.
> 
> Enjoy.

Doubt and restlessness plagued Dib for the entirety of their trip to the Black Market, his thoughts often drifting to the conversation between Tak and Zim that he wasn’t supposed to be privy to. As he sat in his copilot seat Dib found his eyes periodically drifting over to Zim. Since Tak had left the ship Zim had become completely lost in his own thoughts, barely moving or speaking. If his eyes weren’t open, he would seem to be asleep. What was he hiding, and why hide it? There was something Zim wasn’t telling Dib…something important. Sighing, Dib forced his eyes to focus on the window, watching as stars and planets slowly passed them by.

Maybe he was overthinking things…Zim was allowed to have private matters. He had revealed to Dib the reason for his absence and abandonment of Earth, after all. Still, if this was something that could endanger them, shouldn’t Dib be made aware of it? Sighing softly to himself, Dib resigned himself to ignorance. He couldn’t force Zim’s hand on this…he would simply have to wait.

“So,” Dib commented offhandedly,” what planet is this market on?” Zim’s antennae twitched at the sound of Dib’s voice, his body shifting slightly on the pilot’s chair as if he was coming back to reality.

“That is what is so special about this market,” Zim replied, his voice unusually soft from disuse. “This market stays in no singular place but is always moving. The trick is to find it,” he informed Dib, a ghost of a smile playing on his pale green lips. This information sent a much needed wave of excitement through Dib, helping to ease the anxiousness he was feeling in his chest.

“Ah, that sounds like a challenge,” Dib grinned, his mind racing with possibilities.

“Indeed,” Zim smirked, his excitement mirroring Dib’s. “The market itself is positioned within something similar to a blackhole, a rift through both time and space.”

“Is there any pattern to its movement?” Dib questioned, pulling his briefcase out from beneath the control panel to tug out his laptop.

“Yes, it jumps between a set number of locations, the trick is to triangulate its position,” Zim responded, watching Dib work out of the corner of his eye.

“Sounds doable. I take it you have the coordinates,” Dib remarked confidentially as he pulled up a program he had coded to aid him in space travel when hunting for Zim.

“Of course, Dib, have you forgotten who I am?” Zim replied haughtily, even as he pulled up the coordinates for Dib to plug in. As the two worked together to crack the code of this mysterious market the whole ordeal with Tak was forgotten. For now.

Even when the duo was finally able to confidentially triangulate the market’s position, physically reaching it was another matter. With the aid of the advanced alien ship, it still took two full days to reach the predicted location, much to Zim’s ire. They finally reached the flux while Dib was sleeping, startled awake when a wave of energy overtook the ship, nearly knocking him off the bed and to the floor. Jumping out from beneath his blankets, Dib dashed down the ship’s corridor, almost crashing into the back of Zim’s chair as he came to a halt. In front of them was a huge portal of cascading colors, an impossibly dark swirl spiraling in the middle of the vortex.

“Holy shit…” Dib gasped out, mesmerized. Another shockwave of energy suddenly rocked the ship, sending Dip careening to the floor.

“Get in your chair and buckle up, Dummy Dib,” Zim grit out as he fought to right the ship in the sea of pulsing waves. Scrambling off of the floor, Dib fought his way into his chair, quickly strapping in. Zim glanced his way to make sure he was secure only to do a double take.

“Dib?!” Zim shrieked, his already large eyes somehow impossibly wider, “Why are you in a state of undress?!” Dib looked down to see that, yeah, he was only in his underwear. His underwear of light grey boxer-briefs…with little pink ghosts speckled across the fabric. Not the most dignified look.

“I was in bed, I thought we were being attacked!” Dib shouted incredulously as the ship rocked violently the closer to the rift they got.

“So, what was the plan, exactly, Dib?! To battle with our enemies in your underthings?!” Zim exclaimed, bewilderment clear in his expression. Dib’s entire face felt like it was on fire as he managed to wrangle his laptop to sit on his legs.

“Listen, I wasn’t thinking, okay?!” Dib admitted, shouting above the ships creaking and rocking.

“Clearly!” Zim screamed back, flipping several switches on the control panel. Gir leapt up on the console as well, smashing a large button.

“Shields on!” the little robot shrieked happily, seemingly unaware of the chaos surrounding him. Dib watched in awe as a pale blue forcefield surrounded the ship, softening some of the energy waves that crashed against their hull.

“Prepare yourselves, we are going in,” Zim growled, taking a defensive position in his chair before grabbing the steering controls and thrusting violently forwards. Bracing himself, Dib grit his teeth as he was slammed back against his seat, the ship blasting forwards at a speed he couldn’t even gauge. A kaleidoscope of colors danced behind his eyelids, but Dib couldn’t even force his eyes to open, tears streaming backwards across his temples to disappear into his hairline. It felt as if the force was going to tear Dib apart, his body ripping away molecule by molecule. But then it was over, almost as quickly as it started. Everything was still, as if time itself had stopped. And maybe it had. Excerpting an immense amount of energy, Dib managed to pry open his eyes. When his vision finally readjusted, he gasped, mouth hanging slack.

Ahead of them was a huge floating city, tall buildings and neon lights sparkling against the black swirling space matter surrounding them.

“Well,” Zim sighed, sounding a bit out of breath, “you should congratulate yourself, Dib. You are probably the first human to ever lay eyes on the Black Market.” The two sat in silence for a few more moments, catching their breath and taking in the view, but eventually Zim began slowly maneuvering closer to the city. Suddenly Dib was struck with a thought. He was still in his underwear.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” Dib sputtered, launching up from his seat to sprint down the hall. Even though he did his damndest to get out as soon as possible he could still hear Zim mutter under his breath.

“Oh Irk, grant me strength.”

Clothed and armed, Zim, Gir, and Dib all began making their way through the large cityscape. Zim did the vast majority of the talking while Gir carried most of the parts they purchased. Dib took notes on different species, languages, and parts he saw, wanting to learn as much as he could. It seemed he was going to be staying in space for a while, after all. Might as well become acquainted with it. The trio passed through many neon lit alleyways, the city always in perpetual darkness due to being located in a place light couldn’t penetrate. It was a busy, bustling place, overrun with aliens and market stands. Dib was rapidly typing some notes about a fascinating computer part into his phone when he caught a snippet of Zim’s conversation. Across from Zim was a large alien that reminded Dib of a snake, their neck was long, as were their fangs and tongue. The alien’s skin glistened iridescently in the city’s dark glow, as did its long claws on its four arms. The serpent like alien was running a stall consisting of a host of stolen ship parts, although it seemed it did some trafficking on the side.

Zim was flipping some coins out of his pouch and onto the merchants stall, seemingly unaware that the snake creature was gazing at Dib curiously. Deep amber eyes that gleamed dangerously behind slanted pupils, the serpent’s gaze made Dib’s flesh breakout in goosebumps. Creepy. He quickly busied himself with his phone while Zim finished his purchases.

“_What species is the tall one?” _the serpent asked Zim huskily, its cadence of Irken oddly drawn out and borderline sultry. Zim continued to absentmindedly count his money, not even sparing the other alien a glance.

_“Human,” _Zim answered shortly, one of his brows twitching in irritation at being interrupted in his counting.

_“How much?” _the serpent purred, forked tongue slipping out to lick on of his fangs. Eyes widening, Dib whipped his head over to see Zim balking.

“_What? He is not for sale!” _Zim spat, antennae flattening against his head. The Serpent’s eyes cut to Zim, and for a split second Dib feared that they were about to fight, but the serpent sighed and crossed one of its sets of arms dejectedly.

_“Too bad,” _it hummed, _“it looks exotic, bet it would be fun.” _Face heating up rapidly, Dib glanced at the serpent who was still eyeing him.

“_What’s your name, human?” _the serpent called, leaning its long body over the stall to address Dib directly. Swallowing hard, Dib puffed up his chest and mustered his deepest voice.

“You first,” he stated flatly, hoping he looked somewhat intimidating. Both Zim and the serpent whipped around to look at him with surprised expressions, the serpent blinking as it chuckled softly.

_“Fiery, I like that. My name is __Xiuhcoatl,” _the serpent purred, eyelids lowered as it leaned closer to Dib. Suddenly Zim was yanking Dib away by his arm, hissing beneath his breath. The serpent pouted as he was pulled away, but Dib managed to crane his neck back and shout,

“My name is Dib!”

Abruptly Dib found himself slammed back first against a wall, a very angry Irken glaring up at him. Even though Zim was over a foot shorter than Dib he still managed to look threatening.

“Can you please quell your disgusting human need to mate with any and everything that draws breath and focus,” Zim spat, fuchsia eyes narrowed in anger.

“What?” Dib sputtered, face heating up all over again. “I was just making conversation!” Rolling his eyes, Zim shoved himself away from Dib, clearly still irritated. Dib wanted to defend his species but, really, he couldn’t in good conscience. Zim said a lot of untrue things about humans but wanted to lay anything that moved? That was pretty accurate.

After several hours of haggling and only having to threaten two aliens with their lives, the trio was back aboard their ship. Lying on his back, Dib was busy at work integrating some new computer parts when he heard several loud repetitive clanks. Zim was outside installing new thrusters so it couldn’t have been him. Frowning, Dib went back to work but a few moments he heard the clanging, louder this time.

Sliding out from under his workspace, Dib sat up and looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. A loud clang drew his attention to further down the corridor to where Dib could make out Gir’s shape.

“Gir!” Dib called out but the bot seemed not to notice him. Brow furrowing, Dib stood and strode over to where the little robot was making the racket. As he drew closer Dib realized that Gir was repeatedly bashing his head against the wall, a small dent in the ship’s hull evidence that he was not doing it softly.

“Hey buddy, woah…” Dib murmured as he knelt down, gently turning Gir away from the wall and towards him.

“What’s going on?” Dib pressed, concern lacing through his voice as he gazed at Gir’s troubled expression.

“Head…hurts…” Gir whimpered, clenching his large cyan eyes shut in pain. Dib swallowed. This was extremely unusual. In all his years of knowing Gir he had never known the little robot to voice that he was in physical pain.

“Do, do you want me to get Zim?” Dib asked softy as he gently stroked Gir’s head, relieved when the robot’s wince lessened.

“Please…brain feels bad…” Gir mewled, cradling his head in his hands. Immediately Dib was dashing through the ship, throwing open a door that led to the outside. His glasses quickly converted to a mask, allowing Dib to still breathe in space. Looking around frantically, Dib finally spotted Zim atop one of the engine thrusters with what resembled a blowtorch.

“Zim, you need to come inside, now!” Dib cried, waving his arm for emphasis. Bolting upwards, Zim whipped around with a worried expression.

“What is it, Dib?!” Zim asked sternly, four long mechanical legs extending from his back to help him leap the huge distance from the thrusters to Dib. Zim landed right in from of Dib with a thunderous clang, the four spider like legs surrounding him until they slowly retreated back into his pak.

“It’s Gir,” Dib stated gravely, scowling when Zim rolled his eyes.

“Dib, please, I thought it was a real proble-“

“No,” Dib cut in, his voice strained, “something is really wrong.”

Zim and Dib both sprinted back inside, their boots making deafening falls on the metal floors.

“What is wrong?” Zim pressed as the two darted through the halls, his running form flawless.

“He said his head hurt…bad,” Dib informed him breathlessly, fears confirmed by the way Zim’s scowl deepened. This was unusual. They found Gir lying on the ground, curled up and cradling his head. Dib’s heart lurched as Zim fell to his knees, scooping up the small robot and cradling it in his arms.

“Master…” Gir whispered softly as Zim quickly looked for somewhere to sit, the captain’s chair being the closest available option. Taking his seat next to Zim in the copilots chair, Dib looked on, hoping he could help in some way.

“Gir, tell Zim what is hurting you,” Zim demanded softly, his voice not unkind.

“Brain feels bad…fuzzy…” Gir mumbled, wincing as he attempted to look at Zim. Dib and Zim exchanged looks worriedly.

“Gir, you do not technically have a physical brain, can you try to be more specific?” Zim pressed, nodding minutely as Dib grabbed his briefcase to look for tools.

“Mm…feels like someone is…scrambling my mind…messing around in my head…” Gir whispered curling further into Zim’s arms. Worry and confusion clouded Zim’s eyes as he looked down at his small companion.

“Maybe I could take a look at-“Dib offered, but stopped short when Gir started convulsing. The small robot twitched violently as his eye lights began rapidly blinking on and off.

“Oh god, what’s happening to him?!” Dib cried out, but Zim only watched in wide eyed horror at the little robot in his lap. Before either of them could react Gir suddenly plunged both his arms into the control panel, violently ripping a hole in their console. Gir’s blue eyes blinked open, flashed, then turned a soft shade of purple.

Body now still, Zim worriedly looked on as Gir remained connected to the controls, eyes glowing purple instead of his usual baby blue.

“What in Irk’s name…?” Zim muttered, completely confused as to what was happening. Just as Dib was about to offer his aid again the ship’s communication screen blinked to life, a huge television like device now taking up much of the cockpit’s space.

Zim and Dib stared wide eyed as the screen’s static danced across their vision, Gir remaining silent and plugged into the console. Suddenly they all heard a voice.

_“Ah, there we go.”_

The voice spoke in a cadence that told Dib they were Irken, the unique purr of their language plainly audible. Haughty was how Dib would describe their tone, confident, almost aristocratic in how they spoke. Dib heard a choked gasp at his side, turning his head to see all the color drain from Zim’s face, his skin now almost white instead of his usual soft green.

“Zim, who-“ Dib started but quickly snapped his mouth shut when the screen’s static blinked away, revealing a figure instead.

“_Well, well, well, look who I found…,” _purred the Irken, his shark toothed smile condescending and cold, _“the little defect turned traitor.”_ Dib had no idea who this other Irken was, but he knew for a fact that what he said to Zim was one of the most insulting things he could have mustered. The Irken smirking at them on the screen was sitting behind a desk, so only his upper half could be seen, even so Dib could tell he was significantly larger than Zim.

This Irken had a very slim waist decorated in what seemed to be an armored corset, silver metal bands woven intricately across his trim abdomen. His chest was broad and bore an ornate breast plate, deep purple gems and metal glistening in the light as he breathed. Long and lavish purple fabric was draped across his shoulders and adorned his arms, tapering down into rather regal sleeves.

Fingers laced together under his chin, this Irken just oozed superiority. Glimmering indigo gauntlets decorated his arms from elbow to wrist, the metal having the same intricate metalwork as the Irken’s corset. Dib had always thought Zim’s fingers were long in relation to his palms, but he had nothing on this guy. Incredibly elongated fingers were covered in what Dib could only guess was the Irken equivalent to black leather, the longest digit equipped with full finger armor, talon like nail and all. The armor adorning the Irken’s finger was gorgeous and, once again, studded in glimmering violet jewels, one particularly large one situated right where a ring would be. The Irken’s thumbs were completely covered in metal, no adornment at all, which struck Dib as odd. Everything else was so ornate, why leave the thumb so plain?

Moving upwards, the Irken had multiple necklaces and chokers around his incredibly long neck, each and every one glimmering with beautiful artistry or a plethora of jewels. Both of his long antennae were pierced with hanging jewelry, several chains and gems dripping down behind his back. His eyelids were clearly visible due to the Irken’s bored expression, and Dib could see that they had been painted, or maybe even tattooed. The skin above the Irken’s eye shimmered a light lilac, the color deepening as it neared the corner of his eye, ending in a deep smoky black. It reminded Dib of a purple ombre sunset, the Irken’s long lashes fanning down over his deep mauve eyes.

Finally, atop the crown of his head was a small silver circlet, woven into a form similar to a thorn crown, with one singular purple gem hanging in the center of his forehead. Beneath the crown was the most intricate Irken tattoo Dib had ever seen, a large Irken insignia adorned with a multitude of other designs. It was very light in color, almost invisible against the Irken’s deep green skin.

While he didn’t know who this particular Irken was, it was very plain to see that he was extremely wealthy and most likely very powerful. However, that didn’t mean he could speak to Zim anyway he pleased.

“Hey, watch your fucking mouth,” Dib spat, snarling angrily up at the screen. The Irken’s smile slowly slid away until it was replaced with a condescending sneer.

“Ah, I see you brought your human pet with you. He’ll love to hear this, I’m sure,” he scoffed at Zim, deep purple eyes never straying towards Dib.

“What do you want with me?” Zim ground out quietly, his face furious and terrified in equal measures. At the sound of Zim’s voice the other Irken began smirking again, his eyelids at half-mast as if he were bored.

“I’m hurt,” the Irken sighed, tilting his head to the right, the gems and jewelry adorning his antennae chiming softly at the movement.

“Whatever happened to ‘My Tallest’?” he cooed, eyes narrowing as his smile sharpened. Dib stilled. My Tallest?! Swallowing hard, Dib realized that this Irken, the one he had just spat at, was one of the two most powerful beings in the known universe.

“Oh my god,” Dib whispered hoarsely, feeling a chill down his spine. This was an Irken Emperor.

*

Zim’s entire body was on high alert, his emotions boiling up and threatening to spill over. Truly, he was not mentally prepared to look at one of the Tallest, even after almost three years of zero contact. Even Tallest Purple was too much for him.

“You lost that title when you essentially banished me,” Zim hissed, refusing to let his lower emotions slip through. Only his anger would be known. Tallest Purple clicked softly in his throat, a sound of contemplation.

“Do you think your punishment was unfit for your crimes?” Tallest Purple asked softly, his eyes remaining lidded, almost appearing sleepy. Zim knew better. Tallest Purple was the least active of the Emperors when it came to conquering, planning, and battle, but when it came to scrutinizing and studying he really shone. Feigning perpetual boredom, Tallest Purple excelled in public speaking and picking apart exactly what a being was about. There was also a common misconception about the Tallest, that being that Purple was the gentler of the two due to his deceptively bored and spoiled mannerisms. However, Zim had spent extended time with both the Tallest and knew for a fact that Tallest Purple was much more volatile, murdering his underlings seemingly on a whim. He was not to be trifled with.

Proving Zim’s point, Tallest Purple’s question cut Zim to his core, nearly taking his breath away. Zim had to pause for a moment before he trusted himself to speak again.

“What is it that you want from me?” Zim forced out again, unable to truthfully answer Tallest Purple’s question. At his inquiry Tallest Purple’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he chittered softly, antenna twitching, causing a gentle cascade of chiming jewelry. Dib was probably lost, but to Zim Tallest Purple’s meaning was very clear.

_Just as I thought._

Zim swallowed and averted his eyes shamefully. His banishment had hurt Zim dearly, but he could not deny that his crimes were great.

“Hm. Well, truth be told, I couldn’t care less if your little traitorous defect of a carcass rotted away on a long forgotten and dying star,” Tallest Purple stated plainly, shifting to rap one set of his nails on the desk. He only did that when greatly irritated, Zim realized, swallowing. His insults wounded Zim deeply but he refused to let it show. This is exactly why he had deserted the Empire. Or at least…one of the reasons. 

“However…” Tallest Purple continued, his bored façade slipping for a moment, leaking true anger into his voice.

“As I’m sure you know,” he spat, sneer curling into a snarl, palm slamming down forcibly onto the desk, “you’ve greatly upset the one being I give any semblance of a damn about.” Zim attempted to swallow but he couldn’t, throat too tight. His chest heaved. He couldn’t talk about this. Couldn’t even think about it.

“Look me in my eyes, smaller, and tell me you don’t regret what you’ve done,” Tallest Purple seethed, leaning over his desk as his talons scratched deep grooves into the metal. Eyes glued to the floor, Zim found himself unable to meet Tallest Purple’s gaze, even through a monitor. Tutting quietly in his throat, Tallest Purple sat back heavily in his chair.

“_Vermeil would be so disappointed,” _Tallest Purple suddenly hummed, his words causing Zim’s pulse to stop dead then skyrocket. It was forbidden to use an Emperor’s name when they were not present, even more so in front of lesser species, or even non elites. Emperor’s names were considered sacred once they had been coronated by the Control Brains. Zim chose to believe that this betrayal of law was why his heart hammered wildly in his chest at the sound of that name.

“My Tallest Purple, you can’t!” Zim cried before he could stop himself. It was engrained into his very being to protect and defend His Tallest, even in their absence. He could not allow His Tallest’s name to be uttered in front of anyone else. As he raised his head to plead with Tallest Purple, he became aware that he had just fallen for a trap. Tallest Purple’s face was contorted into a vindicated sneer, his teeth gleaming with victory as he laid back into his chair.

“My my, such devotion,” Tallest Purple cooed, dramatically placing a hand over his chest, jeweled gauntlet glimmering violet. Dropping his head in shame, Zim screwed his eyes shut as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. Tallest Purple spoke again, and if Zim didn’t know any better he would say that the other Irken sounded almost kind.

_“This is not something you can simply run away from, Smallest Zim,” _Tallest Purple warned him softly, using a title Zim had not been addressed by in years. “_He will not relent in his hunt for you, and as his companion and blood brother, I implore you to speak with him. You are only prolonging the inevitable. You know very well that the bond you share cannot be broken by distance nor time.” _Swallowing was painful, but Zim managed to do it, pushing tears back with all his might.

_“I do not understand why you say this to me, Tallest Purple,” _Zim croaked softly, voice strained. _“It is he who banished me to Urth, not I that left him.” _Tilting his head to the side, Tallest Purple regarded him quietly before sighing, running a clawed hand over his antennae.

_“Speak with him. You will find that there are hidden reasons behind our actions. Not everything is as it seems, Smallest,” _Tallest Purple murmured back, looking down at Zim through unreadable half lidded eyes.

Seemingly had his fill of staying silent, Dib finally cracked.

“Hey, what the hell did you do to Gir? How did you access our channel?” he asked incredulously, showing no respect for Tallest Purple, dropping all honorifics. Frowning, Tallest Purple turned his head to Dib, analyzing him.

“You’re a loud little fleshy thing, aren’t you?” he commented scornfully, resting his head on his knuckles. Scowling, Dib stood from his seat and stalked over to stand behind Zim, doing the strange human action of puffing up his chest cavity to seem larger. Zim would be lying if he said he was unimpressed.

“Not so little,” Dib growled, seemingly trying to square up with Tallest Purple. In response the Emperor chuckled lightly, apparently more amused than insulted.

“Ah, you have some spunk, don’t you,” Tallest Purple laughed softly, teeth gleaming. “Very well, I’ll indulge you. I built that SIR unit myself; I know any and everything about him. Including how to access his mind at any time I desire,” Tallest Purple informed them smugly, settling back in his chair as the jewels that dripped from his brow shimmered.

“Why access it now, after all this time? Haven’t you done enough to Zim,” Dib bit back, his hand coming down to rest protectively on Zim’s shoulder. The gesture sent a little shiver down Zim’s spine, his spooch doing a little flip in his chest. This day was going to be the end of him.

While Dib’s action reassured Zim it had a very poor effect on Tallest Purple. The Irken Emperor sat back up in his chair, his antennae vibrating in a sign of warning and aggression.

“Do you lay claim to Smallest Zim?” he challenged ominously, voice dropping lower as his antennae raised threateningly.

“And if I do?” Dib growled back, moving to stand in front of Zim, blocking him from Tallest Purple’s view. Zim didn’t have to be able to see Tallest Purple to hear his outraged hiss.

Grasping Dib’s waist to snatch him out of the way, Zim quickly dipped his head in respect to Tallest Purple.

“_We are not bonded!” _Zim playacted desperately, hoping to spare his naïve partner the wrath of an Irken Emperor.

“What are you saying?!” Dib whisper shouted as Zim pulled him down to his knees, attempting to at least pretend Dib knew how to act respectful.

“Saving your life!” Zim hissed back, sending Dib a seething glare. “Now, as your people say, chill the fuck out!” Shoving Dib’s head back down into a bow, Zim slowly stood, keeping his eyes averted to the bottom of the screen to show his respect.

_“Tallest Purple, this human and I are partners, we are not bonded. He is ignorant of our customs,” _Zim chirped apologetically, trying to spare his friend’s life. Tallest Purple had risen from his desk at this point, face not even visible, but after a moment he slowly sat down again, clicking in irritation.

_“…I see. Your…partner is brave, yet inordinately foolish. You should see to that,” _Tallest Purple remarked flatly, clearly still highly irritable.

_“I understand,” _Zim conceded, raising his head up from a bow to meet Tallest Purple’s eyes. _“That being said…I have no plans to reinstate my communication with the Empire,” _Zim finished, refusing to break his gaze. Antennae flattening against his head, Tallest Purple interlaced his jeweled fingers together. 

_“You always were insolent,” _he growled quietly, violet eyes mere slits now. _“I contact you on your behalf and you-“_

_“No,” _Zim interrupted, causing Tallest Purple’s eyes to widen in shock. It seemed he had forgotten Zim’s mannerisms in the mere three years he had cut communications.

_“You contacted me on his behalf, not on mine,” _Zim finished softly, still amazed he was holding his ground. _“If he wishes me to speak to him then tell him he must reach out to me. I will not come groveling back at his feet before I get answers,” _Zim stated sternly, even as his whole body near trembled with adrenaline and fear.

_“Your pak is in abysmal repair, I could wait you out, send my legion after you and you could never recov-“_

_“Then I will just be deleted,” _Zim interjected again, cutting Tallest Purple’s venomous tirade short. Sighing heavily, Tallest Purple sat back in his chair and pinched between his brows.

_“What he sees in your defiant little shank, I’ll never understand,” _the Emperor muttered under his breath, his words causing Zim’s pulse to jump. After a moment, Tallest Purple sat back up and seemed to have collected himself somewhat. Dib had risen from his knees at this point and stood behind Zim, arms crossed over his chest. Zim could practically feel the human’s burning questions at this point.

_“I will be your little messenger and pass your word along. I’ll play nice, this time, Smallest,” _Tallest Purple informed them, voice oddly devoid of emotion or snark as he addressed Zim. A small sense of relief washed over Zim; glad Tallest Purple didn’t plan on hunting them down. Yet.

_“However, let one thing be made clear,” _Tallest Purple continued, voice still eerily flat and monotonous. Then he snapped his long fingers, a small Irken immediately running to stand by his side. Before anyone could even blink a huge metallic pak leg shot out from behind Tallest Purple and cleanly severed the small Irken’s head, the pak leg returning before the skull even hit the floor. A few droplets of fluorescent pink blood were now splattered on the screen and a soft thud could be heard as the lifeless body hit the floor.

_“Should you cross the Empire, you could only pray your death will be so swift,” _Tallest Purple warned venomously, then the screen abruptly went black.

*

Dib and Zim sat there in silence, both completely dumbstruck. A loud whirring sound brought them out of their stupor as Gir retracted his arms from the controls panel, shaking his head like a dog.

“Whew! Headache gone!” Gir cheered happily, hopping down onto the floor and tottering away to do god knows what, oblivious to the heavy atmosphere. Swallowing, Dib turned to look at Zim. Face still pale and eyes wide, Zim looked like he had just looked death in the face…and in a way he had.

“Hey…” Dib called softly, “are you…okay?” Clearing his throat, Zim blinked a few times before shakily turning to Dib.

“We are both alive so…I suppose so,” he replied somberly, his voice sounding strained. Now that he knew Zim was somewhat alright, Dib felt his anger begin to bubble up and boil over.

“You gunna’ tell me what the fuck is going on now?” Dib bit out, sick of being left out of the loop.

“Dib I…I can’t,” Zim mumbled looking down at his hands as they lie limp in his lap.

“Bullshit, you can’t!” Dib snarled, jumping up from his chair to loom over Zim.

“You have some connection with the other Irken leader, that much is obvious, but now they are actively searching for us and you’re just leaving me in the dark! You told him I was ignorant to your customs, so teach me! Let me help!” Dib pleaded desperately, hand gripping Zim’s shoulder imploringly. Zim remained silent.

Suddenly feeling very cold, Dib released Zim and stood, taking a deep breath.

“Fine,” he conceded, turning on his heel to exit the cockpit. If Zim wouldn’t help, Dib had other ways of finding information. Stalking back to his room, Dib locked the door behind him and opened his computer. After almost an hour of fiddling with an alien radio device he had pocketed at the Black Market, Dib finally finished his task. Adjusting one of the dials, Dib punched in a sequence of numbers and waited. Several moments passed before a crisp voice picked up over his radio.

_“You have reached Irken Elite Tak, state your business.”_ Smiling triumphantly, Dib took a deep breath.

“You and I need to talk.”

That was how Dib found himself sneaking to the room that housed their teleporter, ready to go back to Earth for a brief but important meeting. Turns out Tak had a teleporter set up in the shed behind Dib’s old house so she could keep in contact with Gaz, which, woah, okay. Dib would think about that later. Tak assured him that he wouldn’t disintegrate or be lost in space, but it was still a pretty daunting task. Taking a deep breath, Dib plugged in Tak’s coordinates and stepped inside.

As the glass door slid closed the machine began to glow brightly, bathing Dib in a blinding light. His whole body tingled, and the machine began to whirr loudly, preparing to teleport him away. Through all the light and the noise, Dib was still able to make out Zim’s figure dashing towards him. Throat tightening, Dib suddenly felt incredibly guilty…but he needed to know. By then Zim was right in front of him, palms pressed to the glass as his face showed expressions of confusion and betrayal. Dib put his own palms to the glass, as if he could somehow hold Zim's hand, reassure him. Zim just looked at his with glassy eyes, crying out,

“Dib, please, I beg of you, don’t leave me-“

But Dib was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think after 15,000 words that the main pair would even speak?! HA HA, fools!
> 
> I kid, I just love a slow burn. 
> 
> Funny note! Shank is actually a term for bottom, so I thought it would be cute if it was the Irken equivalent to "ass"
> 
> You know, the Tallest run an empire so that makes them Emperors, damn it, and I wanted them to be regal and blinged out, damn it. Indulge me. 
> 
> I picture purple as a sarcastic bastard. I love him. Also, I snuck his "real" name into this chapter as well.  
Vermeil is a shade of red and also a type of gold used in fine jewelry, it seemed appropriate.  
Please leave some comments, they are what keep me writing. yall are awesome, much love
> 
> ~ML


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for your comments and reviews.
> 
> ★ Special Thanks ★ to the wonderful Anon who created this beautiful rendition of Tallest Purple  
Here is the link so you can check it out for yourself! It is absolutely lovey
> 
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/51f8f1b6ef6ea967249fa97770e99011/987e6263cecff22c-a3/s1280x1920/295000af740ec1a0aaaf9796bb80c37d41b3020f.jpg
> 
> If you make any artwork based off of this story, please let me know! I'll always be beyond delighted to see it
> 
> No Warnings for this Chapter, enjoy

Stumbling out of the teleporter, Dib collapsed to the ground. Dry grass crunched under his palms as he attempted to catch his breath, having to stay on all fours for a moment because he didn’t trust his legs to keep him steady just yet. It felt as if he had just spent a lifetime on a rollercoaster and was just now permitted to get off, the whole world spinning beneath him as he panted.

While Dib did his best not to vomit, he heard approaching footsteps crunching in the tall grass.

“Oh, man, Dib, do not barf right now.” He knew that voice anywhere.

“That’s why I’m not lookin’ at you, ‘cuz if I did I would definitely hurl,” Dib wheezed back, a small smile curling his lips. His sister huffed out a little laugh and bent over, offering Dib her hand. Grateful, Dib rested his palm against his sister’s and stood on wobbling legs. 

Gaz looked about the same as the last time Dib had seen her. Like him, she had a pale complexion, her dark hair in contrast with her light skin. Her hair was a pretty plum color, cut in a choppy pixie cut that curled under her ears and ended about her shoulders. Amber eyes always lidded as if she were squinting, her eyelids now shimmering with a deep purple eyeshadow. Sharp and long lashes rested against her cheeks when she looked down, her lips painted a deep pink. Today she was wearing a simple black dress that ended above the knees, her legs clothed in dark purple leggings that disappeared beneath a pair of black combat boots. It seemed gloominess ran in their family.

“Nice to see you, Gaz,” Dib breathed as he hugged his little sister, the sight of his family helping to ease the mess of emotions swirling within his chest.

“Gross,” Gaz replied in her usual monotone voice, but Dib felt her squeeze him tightly back, her arms encircling his midriff as she nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck. Dib rested his chin on the crown of her head and smiled against her hair. He really had missed her.

After a few more moments the siblings pulled apart and Gaz’s expression darkened.

“So, what, you just fly off to space without telling me?” she accused bitterly, crossing her arms and cocking a hip to the side. Swallowing, Dib felt a flicker of guilt burn deep within his gut.

“It was a spur of the moment kind of thing…Zim literally crashed into my town,” Dib murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You could have called,” Gaz bit back sharply, narrowing her eyes at Dib.

“…You’re right. I’m sorry,” Dib admitted, looking at the ground, unable to meet his sister’s accusing gaze.

“Don’t do that again,” Gaz growled before rearing back and delivering a stinging punch to Dib’s shoulder. Laughing the pain away, Dib gave her a soft smile which she returned. Quick to anger, but quick to forgive too.

“Well, let’s do what you came here for,” Gaz proposed monotonously, inclining her head towards their childhood home. When Did shot her a questioning look Gaz rolled her eyes.

“Tak is waiting for you inside,” she huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“Oh,” Dib murmured back, suddenly feeling a wave of anxiety and guilt. Time to do what he came here for.

The siblings entered the house and made their way upstairs to Gaz’s bedroom. Still refusing to question why Tak was suddenly so familiar with their home, Dib followed his sister silently, choosing to focus instead on what he would ask the elite Irken. Eventually they reached the black door to Gaz’s room, the dark color an ominous warning as to who resided behind it. Without any hesitation Gaz turned the handle and entered, Dib following slowly behind her. Gaz waltzed across the room and hopped up on her windowsill, Dib choosing to sit on the foot of the bed. While Dib was ready to see Tak, more or less, he was not prepared to see her in her human disguise.

Whereas Zim had put very little effort into truly blending in on Earth, Tak disguised herself almost flawlessly using Irken holographic technology. Her hair was long and midnight black, cut into choppy layers until it ended just past her shoulders. Skin pale and eyes dark, she looked surprisingly similar to Gaz, except Gaz had a rounded face while Tak’s face was slimmer and more elongated, her usual beauty mark still in place under her black lidded eyes.

“Dib Brother, what is it that has you coming to speak to me in person?” human Tak asked sternly, addressing him from Gaz’s desk chair. Blinking away his shock, Dib cleared his throat and reminded himself of what was at stake. Even if it felt horrible, this was for Zim’s sake.

“Tak, I need you to tell me about the connection between the Tallest and Zim.”

And so Dib told the tale of how Tallest Purple had contacted their ship and threatened them directly, alluding to the same mysterious bond Tak had mentioned while on the ship. Gaz listened silently with an eyebrow cocked in confusion while Tak laced her fingers in front of her mouth, concern deeply etched on her features.

“To think that Almighty Tallest Purple would contact you so directly is…concerning, to say the least,” Tak murmured worriedly as Dib finished.

“Yeah, so we have been personally threatened by a galactic space emperor and I still have no idea what’s going on. I asked Zim but he refused to tell me,” Dib exclaimed, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. “So I’m asking you, Tak, begging. Please, tell me what is happening so I can protect Zim,” Dib pleaded as he looked Tak directly in her false human eyes. Breathing deeply, she seemed to contemplate this, her eyes closing as her brows furrowed, before reopening them.

“Very well, Dib Brother…you seem genuine in your desire to aid Zim and to be speaking truthfully, he will be needing it,” she relented, straightening her back and settling into her chair. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dib too sat back while Gaz looked on silently.

“This bond is very difficult to describe in your language as you do not truly have words that encompass the severity of the connection. The closest your language comes to is ‘soulmate’ but even that is not enough,” Tak informed Dib, his guts churning with every word. Soulmates? Surely that couldn’t be true… Tak didn’t wait for Dib to recover from that emotional blow and continued on, unbothered or ignorant to Dib’s distress.

“Irken’s no longer breed to bare offspring traditionally, instead each Irken is specifically designed and created by the Control Brains, which dictate everything within our culture. This limits the number of mistakes and ailments that can result from traditional birth,” Tak stated matter of factly. “The Control Brains assess each smeetling that successfully hatches and predict that particular Irken’s path in life. If the Control Brains deem that smeetling worthy and predict that it shall be powerful or prosperous, the Control Brains will craft one or more companions to aid in that smeetling’s life.”

Dib swallowed harshly, sensing where Tak was getting with this Irken biology lesson.

“As you may have guessed…” Tak continued softly, “Zim is one Irken year younger than Almighty Tallest Red because the Control Brains crafted Zim for him.” The whole room spun. This was so much worse than Dib had originally thought.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Dib croaked, quickly clearing his throat to get the shake out of his voice. Gaz shot him a worried look but didn’t say anything, which Dib was grateful for.

“It means that Zim and Almighty Tallest Red grew up together, trained together, and Zim was biologically designed to be the Tallest Red’s companion in life. Zim was created to adhere to Tallest Red’s tastes and Zim was designed to appreciate and admire everything about Tallest Red in return. Although he is deemed defective, it seems some part of that still applies,” Tak affirmed, crossing one of her legs over the other while folding her arms across her chest.

“Companion…what exactly do you mean by companion?” Dib questioned, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice as he spoke. Companion didn’t translate to lover…right?

“It can mean different things for different Irken. For example, Tallest Purple was also given a designated companion, but they are more of an assistant than anything else. I do not believe this is the case when it comes to Zim but I cannot be sure. What we can be sure of is that when two Irken are designed with the other in mind there is a connection that can never be severed. There will always be a pull there, to go back to one another, and this is two fold for Zim. Irken are already programmed to obey and admire the Tallest. So, I imagine the pull to return to Tallest Red is especially strong, even more so if Tallest Red desires his return,” Tak finished, staring at Dib intently. Dipping his head, Dib’s gaze was locked on the floor. This was…not great. After taking a few steadying breaths Dib raised his head again.

“So, what do we do?” he asked plainly. The situation was not ideal but Dib would be damned if he gave up. Tak’s eyes widened a bit at Dib’s inquiry, seemingly taken aback by Dib’s response. She then leaned back and looked away; her eyes distant in thought.

“Well…,” she began slowly, “as I mentioned previously, the bond is biological and cannot truly be severed. However, Zim has a very strong constitution, which is one of the reasons he is labeled defective. If you keep him at a distance from the Tallest and support him, I believe you can continue about your lives in relative peace,” Tak proposed, her slanted eyes not betraying much.

“Alright, “Dib breathed, resting his hands atop his head as he spoke. “So just stick to the plan? Just try to stay out of Irken controlled territory and avoid them at all costs.”

“Dude, wait,” Gaz interrupted, shaking her plum locks as she broke her silence. “You’re just going to warp back up to space and assume this is all going to work out? These guys are probably out to kill you!” she exclaimed disbelievingly.

“Perhaps not,” Tak muttered, rubbing her pale chin. “The Empire is currently at war with another alien race that is attempting to combat their rule, they may not have the recourses to send a fleet,” she informed them.

“Great,” Gaz spat, “so now Dib is in the middle of an intergalactic war?”

“Technically, we are all involved, I’m afraid,” Tak responded dully, glancing towards Gaz.

“There’s another problem…” Dib interrupted the two, peeking hesitantly between them.

“Of course there is,” Gaz groused, throwing her hands up.

“What is it, Dib Brother?” Tak asked, ignoring his sister’s grumbling.

“Tallest Purple, or whatever, said Zim’s pak was in really bad shape and I don’t think he’s bluffing. When I first found Zim he was bleeding pretty heavily, said his pak had done all it could to heal him,” Dib detailed worriedly. Tak sucked in a breath, startling the two siblings.

“What, is it that bad?” Gaz questioned franticly, off put by Tak’s unusual display of emotion.

“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely, “it is in fact that bad. A pak injury is considered severe and can cause much pain and distress. Only Irken Empire medical equipment can mend paks, and Zim has disavowed the Empire in its entirety. This only serves to strengthen the pull of Almighty Tallest Red, not to mention the discomfort it is causing Zim. Now there is essentially a beacon pointing Tallest Red directly towards you,” she finished somberly. 

“Fantastic,” Gaz spat venomously, rubbing her temple. The trio sat in heavy silence for a while before Dib broke the tension.

“Plan still hasn’t changed,” he stated firmly. “I keep Zim away from the Empire, end of story.”

“Dib, it isn’t that simple!” Gaz argued, hopping off of her windowsill perch to stand in front of him. Dib stood in response, a good head taller than his sister.

“It is that simple,” he retorted, doing his best to keep her intense gaze. Sucking her teeth, Gaz whirled around to face Tak who was watching the siblings silently.

“Tell him he’s being unreasonable!” Gaz growled, jabbing Dib’s chest with her finger. Tak simply cocked her head to the side.

“Dib Brother has always been unreasonable. This is not unusual,” she replied innocently. Groaning, Gaz placed a hand on her forehead.

“Fine,” she grumbled after a moment, “but you tell me the instant something weird goes on. No excuses,” she demanded, jabbing Dib’s chest again. Giving her a stiff nod, Dib immediately wrapped her in another hug.

“Gross,” he heard her muffled reply from within his chest but she wrapped her arms around him all the same.

“Well, the Dib Brother should be returning, I’m sure Zim has noticed by now,” Tak stated primly, rising from her seat. “I will escort him to the teleporter to insure he returns to his ship.” Giving her one last squeeze, Dib released Gaz and followed Tak downstairs and into the backyard towards the shed. As the shed doors closed behind them Tak deactivated her human disguise, turning to look at Dib with her true purple eyes.

“Are you courting Zim?” she asked briskly, no pomp and circumstance. Dib immediately flushed, taking a step backwards.

“What, who…why would you ask that?” he stammered, completely taken aback. Spiraled antennae twitching, Tak took a step towards Dib.

“I ask because you seem to be courting him, obviously,” she replied tartly, hands behind her back.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Dib squeaked, quickly clearing his throat. Tak was right in his face now, Dib practically doing a backbend to create some distance between them.

“Hmm, very well. I will return you to your ship now,” she finally relented, turning on her heel to calibrate the teleporter. Entire face on fire, Dib heaved a great sigh then stepped inside the teleporter.

“Goodbye and Goodluck, as the humans say, Dib Brother,” Tak bid him, then she started the machine and Dib was gone.

Once again, Dib collapsed outside the teleporter and laid there on the floor, taking deep breaths in an attempt not to hurl. As he lay there gasping, he felt more than heard footfalls coming towards him. Dib attempted to stand but when his vision swam, he flopped right onto his back once again. Breathing deeply through his nose, Dib closed his eyes and waited as the footfalls drew closer then stopped, one foot on either side of his head. Apprehensively, Dib opened his eyes.

*

Zim felt as if he was losing his grip. On his emotions, his life, himself. So much was happening. Tallest Purple, _the _Almighty Tallest Purple had infiltrated his ship’s communications and spoken to him. Tallest Purple never spoke to him! And what did he have to say? That after all the pain and humiliation Zim had suffered at the hands of the Empire he should go crawling back.

Never.

Then, as if that was not enough stress, Dib had decided to be upset and leave! Just, beam away! Shamefully, Zim had tried to stop him in desperation, going to far as to beg. Zim did not beg.

And yet he had. Perhaps being on Urth had intensified his emotions. What a mess. Zim had contemplated plugging in Dib’s coordinates and following him but Zim was not in any state to be seen. Stress and worry had done a number on him and he found deep purple tears leaking from his eyes to stain trails down his cheeks. Absolutely shameful.

Instead, he returned to his work on the thrusters, ensuring that the ship was battle ready. When that work was finished Zim returned to the helm and set about steering the ship to a new part of space, refusing to dwell on the events of the past few hours.

He would not acknowledge the ball of hurt and betrayal that rested heavily in his stomach at the thought of Dib leaving, never to return. Zim would not think of the ache within his chest. Would not think of Tallest Red yearning for his return. Simply wouldn’t think at all.

A short while later the whirring sound of the teleporter brought Zim out of his trance and back to reality. Antennae vibrating excitedly, Zim all but sprinted further back into the ship, heels clunking along the metallic floors. As he rounded a corner Zim felt his eyes tear up all over again. There, on the floor, was Dib. Zim’s antennae quivered again as he grew closer and, not for the first time, Zim was thankful Dib had not yet been able to decipher the complete compendium of Irken body language. He really didn’t need Dib realizing how excited Zim was to see him. Approaching cautiously, Zim could see that Dib’s chest was heaving and his eyes were screwed shut. It seemed teleportation didn’t sit well with his gooey human body.

Good.

Feeling a surge of confidence, Zim waltzed over to the human and framed Dib’s head between his boots. Large chest rising as he took a deep breath, Dib finally opened his eyes. Cool steel irises gazed up at Zim, causing his antennae to give another embarrassing quiver.

“Hey, Zim,” Dib croaked breathlessly, tilting his chin upwards to better meet Zim’s eyes.

“You’ve returned,” Zim replied flatly, surprising himself with the audible bitterness in his voice. Wincing, Dib made a slight frown up at Zim.

“I went to see Gaz,” he breathed heavily, apparently still motion sick. By reflex Zim’s face screwed into a distasteful scowl. Gaz Sister always frightened him.

“Why did you not tell me?” Zim pressed, leaning over further to better meet Dib’s steely gaze. Upon hearing his question Dib’s face twisted into a scowl.

“That’s rich coming from, hey…have you been crying?” he finished softly, all the edge gone from his voice as he reached a hand out to gently rub one of Zim’s legs. Startled, Zim felt his cheeks flush as he took a surprised step back. Irk damn it all, he had forgotten that his tears stained his face. Zim heard Dib rise from the floor as he attempted to smear the purple streaks form his skin but was still surprised when Dib embraced him, pulling Zim towards Dib’s broad chest.

“What do you think you are doing?” Zim hissed, alarmed as his cheeks flushed darker against the material of Dib’s shirt.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Dib muttered resting his chin atop Zim’s head.

“Zim is never upset,” he snapped back, even as he buried his face further into Dib’s chest. He felt Dib’s body jump as he gave a small laugh, which made Zim smile in return.

Well, at least this part of his life was okay.

*

The next several days were uneventful, the trio gliding through space with no interference, Irken or otherwise. Gir had gotten an ungodly amount of syrup jammed into one of their exhaust vents, but after a thorough scrubbing and a lot of shouting by Zim that incident had been taken care of with relative ease. Dib was towards the back of the ship running some diagnostics on their shields as Zim piloted them, Gir doing who knows what. As Dib sat on the floor with his laptop a light in his peripheral vision grabbed his attention. Expecting to see Gir flouncing about with some sort of laser, Dib was surprised to see their teleporter flashing.

Dread and adrenaline flooded Dib’s veins in equal parts as he sprinted over to the machine. Out of his jacket pocket Dib whipped out one of his own creations, one he was particularly proud of. The shape and size of a pocket knife, Dib called it his Master Key. Essentially, it was a device that, when inserted into a piece of machinery, immediately shut it down, fried it temporarily. Quickly, Dib jammed the tool into the control panel of the teleporter, effectively short circuiting it. The light of the teleporter flashed bright then dissipated, its processes halted. For now. Panting, Dib eyed the machine for a moment more, wanting to ensure whoever was attempting to board their ship wasn’t still coming through the teleporter. Deciding it was safe enough, Dib sprinted up towards the cockpit.

All but colliding into Zim’s chair, Dib quickly spun the seat around so Zim was facing him.

“What in the name of Irk is your deal, Dib?” Zim exclaimed, eyes wider than usual as he peered upwards.

“Someone just tried to teleport onto our ship,” Dib panted, adrenaline still shaking his hands. Hissing angrily, Zim shot up started to make his way towards the hull.

“I already disabled it, but I don’t know who it was or why they were trying to board,” Dib called, grabbing Zim’s wrist to tug him back towards the controls. Eyes narrowed, Zim began to pace.

“To utilize a teleporter the user must have the exact coordinates and code for the machine…who on Irk could have ours?” Lifting up his hand, Dib began counting off.

“Three people as far as I see it. The guy who sold us the ship, the alien that sold us a repair part for the teleporter, and the only person besides us who has ever used it…” Dib trailed off, dread beginning to knot itself around his stomach.

“Tak,” Zim finished hollowly, both of them having the same thought. Had Tak been found out?

Whipping his phone out of his pocket, Dib dialed his sister’s number and waited in anxious silence. One ring, three, Dib was afraid it would go to voicemail when Gaz finally answered.

“Have you heard from Tak?!”

His sister’s desperate cry caught Dib off guard, and he was fully panicked by now.

“Gaz, Gaz, sis, breathe, I’m here, talk to me” Dib murmured, feeling dreadfully hurt and angry at his sister’s dismay.

“Dib, last night she said there was an emergency, that she had to go. Said she didn’t know when she’d be back. But as she was leaving the atmosphere I saw a flash in the sky! Something’s happened to her,” Gaz explained frenziedly, her usually monotone voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Fuck,” Dib hissed, running a hand over his chin. This was not great. Quite bad, in fact.

“Listen, Gaz,” Dib demanded, his voice calm and severe. “Zim and I will find out what happened to Tak, meanwhile you need to lay low. Tak mentioned there was a war going on and we are all involved. Contact me immediately if anything even remotely strange occurs. I assume you’re already armed?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am…be safe, bro,” Gaz whispered, then the line clicked dead. Running a hand through his tousled hair, Dib turned to Zim.

“Seems Tak’s been compromised,” Dib revealed dismally, guilt stewing in his chest.

“So I heard, “Zim replied tartly, eyes narrowed at Dib, “I also heard you mention that Tak told us of a war, but I don’t recall being there for such a conversation,” he finished, his tone accusatory. Dib swallowed thickly. Oh shit, he had totally let that slip.

“Is that really what we should be focused on right now-“

Dib’s sentence was cut short when the ship’s power flickered off then back on, the communication screen blinking to life a moment later.

“Not this shit again,” Dib growled as Zim hissed deep in the back of his throat. The two silently took their respective seats at the helm of the ship to wait for the transmission to come through. So it had been Purple fucking with them? Figures.

Dib settled back in his chair and put on the baddest bitch face he could muster, going for suave and intimidating so when Purple’s smug face appeared on screen he would know Dib wasn’t here for any of his bullshit.

Static danced over their screen before a picture blinked in to replace it. However, it was not Purple who faced them.

Similar to Purple, this Irken was incredibly tall, even sitting behind his dark metallic desk Dib could tell that he was massive. Other than that, this Irken couldn’t be more different than Purple in terms of aura or appearance.

His waist was encircled with a cinched metal corset that resembled lavish armor more than anything else. It glinted a metallic gold so pale it almost gleamed white, the detailed metal work snaking up his sides to begin circling his breastplate. The chest armor itself was just as dazzling, pale gold with crimson details painted on his side, accentuating his thin waist. At the center of the breast plate was an intricately detailed eight pointed star, a large rose gem glittering in the middle. On his shoulders were pale golden pauldrons, each one swooping down to end in a sharp spike. Atop each of them were blood red crystals, each catching the light ominously.

Instead of long flowing silks like Purple sported, the scarlet cloak pinned to this Irken’s shoulders was thick and heavy, cascading down his back like a waterfall of crimson blood. The same fabric could be seen peeking through the separated plates of his armor, splotches of cardinal breaking up the pale gold. The glinting armor continued down his arms, over his elbows and across his slim wrists. Just like the breastplate, the metal bands encircling his arms were detailed with small yet intricate stars, petite cherry gems glittering at the center of each. Where the plates ended at the joints Dib could see the crimson fabric leaking through.

His hands were adorned in similar gauntlets as Purple, aside from the colors. Elongated fingers were adorned in pale gold, each segment of the finger completely encrusted in flaming gems, an especially large on where a ring would usually sit. Minuscule spikes sat atop the Irken’s knuckles, surely more for show than actual combat. The tips of his two fingers ended in elegant golden claws, the curved metal just as beautifully detailed as the rest of the armor. Once again, this Irken’s thumb glinted a dull metallic grey, completely barren of décor.

Upon his lengthy neck, instead of multitudes of necklaces and chokers, there was but one. Gorgeous and ornate, this golden collar started at the very apex of the Irken’s neck and dripped all the way down to his elegant collarbones. There were glimmering red stones all throughout the metal plates and chains, but at the very center of the large golden necklace glimmered a pale pink stone, perfectly polished and round. Where Tallest Purple was dressed for luxury, this Irken was dressed for command. 

Instead of the vicious smirk of Purple, this Irken’s face betrayed almost nothing, save contempt. Mouth a thin line, he looked like how Dib imagined a king would look. Regal, cold, as if every other creature that drew breath was beneath him. His eyes were shadowed in a burnt crimson, darkening as they neared the outer edge. Thick black lines adorned his lids, ending in sharp spikes Dib believed his sister would call cat’s eyes. Midnight black lashes fanned over his high cheek bones in his half lidded expression. His forehead bore the same pale Irken insignia as Purple, sitting prominently atop his brow. At the apex of his head sat a pale gold crown, much broader than Purple’s circlet. It had but a single thick band that wove itself around his head, and five large spikes jutting out of the top, the spike at the center being the tallest. On each side of the crown, where a human’s ears would be, dripped long chains that danced all the way down to his collar bones before rising back up to connect to the other side. At the center of the crown was a large crimson jewel.

His antennae were wrapped in the same golden chains, the network of intricate metalwork reminding Dib of vines or thorns. Of course, ruby charms and gems dripped down the chains, clinking softy together with every movement.

The biggest difference between the two Irkens, though, had to be the way they held themselves. Deep crimson eyes looked down at them with an enigmatic expression, contempt and power rolling off of him in waves. Instead of lounging on the desk or resting his chin atop his palm, this Irken sat perfectly straight in his chair, jeweled hands clasping the arms as if it were a throne. His lavish crimson cape flowed behind him and poured off of the seat, seemingly too small to encompass the Irken fully. Perhaps any chair this person sat on became a throne.

“_Hello, My Smallest,”_ the Irken hummed coolly, a sharp glint in his blood red eyes as Zim’s title dripped from his lips. His voice was deep, smooth and calm as it seeped out from between his glimmering white fangs, like audible whiskey. So this was him. The Irken that was at the heart of all of their troubles.

Tallest Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, did I do a cliff hanger? 
> 
> Sorry this was a bit short, it just felt like the natural place to end the chapter
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, please leave me some comments, they are my nourishment. 
> 
> See yall next time for some tall shenanigans 
> 
> Comment or imma make Spooge a main character. Yeah. How's that for a threat? pft. Poor Spooge.  

> 
> ~ ML


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for your kudos and comments. They always inspire me to write more!
> 
> Here's a little more, just for you  
( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)

Zim believed it would be fair to claim that his last few years had been very stressful. Disowned and hunted by his own people, forced to flee a planet he had called home since his banishment, endlessly chased throughout the stars, separated from his one true friend. He had received injuries, emotional as well as physical, and had been thoroughly exhausted in every way possible. He believed that could fairly be called stress.

However.

Zim could do it all again, invade a planet, face an army, and all of it combined could not compare to the levels of stress he was experiencing as Tallest Red looked down upon him through the screen of the communicator. Pulse beating so fast it almost felt like a constant vibration, Zim focused every iota of his strength into remaining perfectly still. He would remain strong. He would not bend.

“I am not your smallest,” Zim grit out, impressed with himself as his voice barely wavered. Tallest Red’s mouth quirked down into a frown ever so slightly before it was gone again.

_“Surely you cannot be upset with me,” _he mused softly, tilting his head to the side, gems and crystals chiming in time with the movement. Zim swallowed nervously. He didn’t even sound upset and yet Zim waited with bated breath for every word Tallest Red spoke. Judging from his partner’s silence, it seemed Dib too had deemed Tallest Red a dangerous foe.

“_You banished me, toyed with me,” _Zim accused, his tone more hurt than he would have preferred, but the message still got across. Tallest Red truly scowled then, glimmering scarlet eyes narrowing as the corners of is mouth dipped downwards.

_“You truly think that of me?” _he questioned harshly, and if Zim didn’t know any better he would think that Tallest Red sounded hurt. Sitting there upon his chair, in full Command garb, Tallest Red looked stunning. His skin was the perfect tone of green, beautifully contrasted against the bright white gold of his armor and the deep crimson of his eyes. It was no wonder all Irkens happily groveled at his feet. Of course, Tallest Purple was just as visually striking, with more admirers than stars in the cosmos, but Tallest Red was…something else. The way he glared from beneath lidded eyes, took command of their fleet, controlled all those beneath him, conquered entire galaxies. It made Zim’s inside quiver.

“_What else am I to think?” _Zim questioned, anger and pain audible within his voice in equal measures. “_I was sent to a planet on a false mission, deemed defective and disgraced, all under your orders!” _Zim was shouting now, gripping his chairs arms until the material creaked beneath his claws. Vision beginning to turn lilac, Zim realized his eyes had welled up with tears. Blinking quickly, he held the tears at bay. Upon seeing his distress, Tallest Red made a purring sound, deep within his chest, the tone so low it seemed to resonate within Zim’s very bones. It was a customary Irken method of comforting, as Tak had done with Zim previously. The deep tone, however, was not customary. It was a sound reserved for, not only a loved one, but the submissive within the relationship. Tallest Red was comforting him, not as a subordinate, but as his lover. It was a sound of compassion and protection, and Zim thought it could very well break him.

On instinct and nothing else, Zim purred back, the sound soft and needy as his eyes locked with Tallest Red’s dark gaze. Upon realizing what he had just done, Zim’s pale green cheeks flushed hot pink, but he couldn’t take back his response. Tallest Red’s eyes were narrow slits, his antennae twitching ever so slightly. No matter how much he insisted nor how loudly he shouted that Zim was no longer his, Zim’s own body had betrayed him. Now Tallest Red knew just how desperately Zim yearned for him and, truly, always had.

*

Dib had absolutely no inkling of an idea as to what was happening right now. Which, come to think of it, had become upsettingly commonplace. The only thing that was clear to him was that Zim and the Irken Emperor were having a conversation that Dib was not privy to. Translating Ikren on the fly was difficult enough, but when it came to the nonverbal aspect of their language, Dib was completely in the dark. That being said, you didn’t have to be an Irken scholar to understand that Zim just whimpered to the Irken on the screen.

White hot jealousy bubbled up and mixed with confusion as Dib whipped his head to the side to stare at Zim, bewildered. The alien at least had the decency to look embarrassed as a pink flush spread across his pale face. Two minutes into this call and Dib had already had enough.

“Alright,” he called up at the screen, crossing his arms over his chest, “what do you actually want, other than to bother Zim?” Dib could feel more than see Zim’s death glare, and Dib could practically hear Zim reprimanding him for not addressing the Emperor properly. Said Emperor closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if he were composing himself, before he turned his head to respond to Dib. His blood red eyes were unnerving, and his elegant attire really did nothing to steel Dib’s nerves, but he tried to appear unbothered. The Irken Emperor’s lip curled into a small sneer, revealing glimmering sharp teeth.

“Hush, little human,” he commanded softly, “the higher life forms are speaking.” Dib’s face immediately erupted into a shameful blush, and his hair all stood on end. Never before had he felt so dismissed and looked down upon, not even with his father. What was he even supposed to say to that? Then the Emperor turned back to Zim, looked less than enthused.

“_You claim this Earthling?” _he asked lowly, contempt and distaste laced throughout his question.

“_He is Dib and Dib is my partner,” _Zim bit back defiantly, causing a small burst of warmth to blossom within Dib’s chest. That feeling was quickly dashed when the Emperor scoffed, tutting softly against his sharp teeth.

_“What an egregiously tragic downgrade, smallest,”_ he cooed snidely, lips curled into a scornful sneer. Searing anger burned within Dib’s chest and that mixed with his already reckless nature made a potent cocktail of disaster.

“If I’m such a downgrade then what does that make you, seeing as Zim actually wants to be with me?” Dib snarled up at the screen, anger and jealousy overriding his common sense with a wave of heedless courage.

The whole mood shifted. The Crimson Emperor’s calm composer slowly melted away into barely controlled rage. Out of the corner of his eye Dib watched as Zim gasped then nearly curled up on his seat, fear and apprehension tangible in the air. The Irken Emperor’s gaze became so dark his blood red eyes deepened until they were almost indistinguishable from back, just mere slits beneath his heavily lidded gaze. Long scythe like antennae twitched and vibrated with unsung warnings, chimes and chains clanging dangerously in the stillness of the air. The Emperor still sat upright in his seat, back straight, almost managing to paint a picture of calm, but his gilded talons crushing the metal arms of the chair betrayed his wrath.

“Dare to speak to me that way again,” the Emperor grit out, voice nearly shaking with fury as his cold blooded gaze zeroed in on Dib, “and I will personally see to the complete annihilation of your planet, and I promise, it will not be quick.” Dib felt his whole body run cold, heart nearly stopping only to resume beating ten fold. Voice caught in his throat; he couldn’t even muster a response.

“Any relation you believe to transpire between Zim and yourself is infinitesimal compared to what he and I share, I can personally assure you of this,” the Emperor continued, voice dripping with venomous derision, “you are but a temporary play thing, and nothing more. Do not profess that you are on the same level as I.”

“Do not say that, Tallest Red,” Zim interjected softly but with conviction, his voice breaking through the heavy stillness like a light through the darkness.

“You dispute this?” the Emperor inquired incredulously, gems pealing as he whipped his head to the side to address Zim, clearly taken aback.

“Dib is Zim’s partner, he is not a toy,” Zim persisted, although Dib noticed that Zim was unable to meet the Emperor’s eyes, instead focusing his gaze to the floor. Though his words were reassuring and made Dib’s heart flutter he couldn’t help but feel that there was more to the story than Zim was letting on. It seemed the Emperor mirrored Dib’s thoughts, the tall Irken’s eyes narrowing suspiciously at Zim.

“I will not argue this with you in the presence of others,” the Emperor finally conceded, body relaxing somewhat but scowl still firmly in place.

“The true reason I had Mauve contact you was to issue a warning,” he continued darkly, gaze once again locked on Zim. Mauve? The only person to ever gain access to their controls had been the Purple Emperor, so perhaps that was his name.

“Tch, warn us about what? That you are tracking us? I am well aware of this,” Zim retorted sharply, his zany attitude seemingly recovered for the moment. Dib expected his sass to anger the Red Emperor but, shockingly, it appeared to have the opposite effect. Instead of his scowl intensifying, the Emperor’s brow arched, and a small smile curled the corners of his lips, his gaze softening as he looked down at Zim. Again, jealousy and suspicion twisted Dib’s guts.

“No, Smallest, it was not that,” the Emperor chuckled, his voice much softer in tenor than it had been previously. “However…” Suddenly his tone became much more serious, all humor now gone.

“I am sure you have been made aware that there is a force attempting to combat the Empire, and it is a very real possibility that you yourselves could be caught and attacked,” he stated firmly, sounding very much like the commander he clearly was.

“Not only that, I am well aware that your pak is injured and in need of repair, immediate repair” he continued sternly, voice nearly a growl as he addressed Zim. It was almost as if he were reprimanding Zim…almost like he was…concerned for him. Dib swallowed harshly as the pit in his stomach grew.

“My pak has needed repair for some time, not that it is any concern of yours,” Zim spat back, eyes narrowed at the screen, “ _and you have no room to chastise me as it was your soldiers who shot down my ship and injured me gravely!” _he finished fiercely, having switched to Irken to better get his point across. At his verbal attack, the Emperor almost recoiled, shock and revulsion passing over his sharp features.

_“They were simply meant to apprehend you, but when I was made aware of the attack those involved were taken care of, I assure you,” _the Emperor all but seethed back, his voice ice cold.

“_Oh, how very assured I am,” _Zim snapped, eyes narrowing further, “_Now try to explain away my banishment! My false mission! Assure me of those things, My Tallest!” _Zim all but screamed, purple tinged tears dancing in the corners of his eyes, from betrayal or anger, Dib wasn’t sure. Dib had picked up that “My Tallest” was a title that carried notes of admiration and respect, but the way Zim had just spat it was akin more to a curse. It absolutely dripped with vitriol and spite, spewing from his lips like venom. Once again, the Emperor took a moment to compose himself, closing his eyes as his long armor-clad fingers clenched and unclenched from the arms of the chair. Slowly, he opened his eyes again, focusing his whole being on Zim. Dib nearly felt like an intruder.

“_Zim_,” he began, sternly but not unkindly, “_what were the events that led up to your banishment?” _the Emperor finished coolly, steely eyes locked in place. At this inquiry Zim seemed to deflate somewhat, his anger fizzling out to be replaced with confusion and dejection. This was something even Dib didn’t know. He was aware of a cataclysmic event that had been caused by Zim but the Irken had never informed him as to what it was. He held that secret close to his heart, locked away.

“_I...I had…” _

_“You killed the previous rulers of the Irken Empire and made the planet Irk near inhospitable in the process,” _the Irken Emperor finished dispassionately, voice not accusatory but not comforting either. He stated it as a simple fact. Dib balked. He had…no idea it was that bad. Perhaps naively, Dib had believed Zim had flubbed a mission of some sort or stepped a bit too far out of line. But…killing the former rulers as well as devastating their planet? No wonder Zim had never revealed this to him…it was horrid. Zim seemed to be rendered completely speechless, which was a huge feat in itself.

_“Can you imagine a greater crime against the Empire?” _the Emperor spurred on, voice calm but within his eyes Dib could see he felt distraught. Unable to muster up a response, Zim sat stock still, eyes wide and face blank as if he had seen a ghost.

_“Did you not ever wonder,” _the Emperor continued softly,” _how it was that you were not executed? Tortured? Recoded? Irkens are killed for much less on a daily basis and yet you lived after being convicted of double regicide.” _

Horrifically, Dib found himself agreeing with the Emperor. Just a short while ago Dib had witnessed the Purple Emperor cleave an Irken’s head from its shoulders just to make a point. Yet Zim had done these drastically terrible things and he lived? Zim continued his unusual bought of silence, either unaware of the answer or simply refusing to admit it.

_“Your banishment was not to keep you from the Empire,” _the Emperor pressed on, his deep voice unwavering as his eyes never strayed from Zim. _“It was to keep the Empire from you. Mauve and I conceived the plan for your banishment as a way to spare your life,” _he finished somberly, antennae dropping in a way that even Dib could tell was sorrowful.

_“It brought me no joy to send you away but…you must understand. It was the best I could do,” _the Emperor all but implored, a soft yet deep humming sound emanating from deep in his throat. Upon hearing the sound Zim’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and antennae trembling. A soft ringing peal emanated from Zim, the sound soft and melodic. It was the lightest sound Dib had ever heard Zim make, the closest being when Zim murmured or chimed in his sleep or when he bit into a sweet he loved in particular. Dib found himself thinking the sound beautiful and wanted to hear it again.

But not like this.

Through the screen the Emperor seemed just as enamored by the little peal as Dib was, his eyes closing momentarily as if he were in bliss. Feeling nearly sick to his stomach, Dib desperately wished that he understood the Irken language in its entirety, he felt so lost and isolated even though Zim sat not even a foot away.

Dib had to cut in.

“Very kind of you to warn us,” he drawled sarcastically at the screen, “but Zim and I took precautions with the anticipation of being attacked. We don’t have any Irken connections and we’re ready for a fight.” The moment broken, the Emperor scowled and turned his attention to Dib, his gaze unreadable.

“Even if you have no affiliation with the Empire the enemy force could still attack or board your ship for recourses. And if they were to find Zim they would certainly try to kill him,” he predicted coldly in perfect English, his tone almost coming off as scolding.

“I am more than capable of defending myself,” Zim growled, baring his own teeth at the monitor.

_“You are injured! Any more damage to your pac could prove fatal,” _the Emperor all but spat, leaning over his desk while his golden clad talons dug deeper into the grooves already carved into the arms of the chair. Dib glanced over to Zim worriedly, but the harsh words only seemed to strengthen the small Irken. Zim took a deep breath and straightened his back, staring the Emperor directly in his crimson eyes.

_“Then you can give the Empire something to rejoice about. The little defect will be gone,” _Zim clicked coolly in Irken, his voice eerily devoid of his usual snark or fire. Both Dib and the Emperor sucked in a breath, as if they had both been shocked. Eyebrows creased in worry, Dib reached out to gently place his hand on Zim’s, hoping to offer some comfort. He knew he couldn’t communicate with Zim like a fellow Irken could, but he would still try his best none the less. Surprised, Zim cast his eyes to the side to glance at Dib then gave Dib’s hand a small squeeze, gloved hand settling against Dib’s much larger palm, before pulling away.

Surprisingly, the Emperor observed in silence, though distaste was evident on his face as he watched the interaction transpire.

After a moment of silence passed, the Emperor drew in a slow breath, seemingly regaining his composer.

_“Zim, I contacted you to offer sanctuary onboard the Massive. Enough time has passed that the Empire has forgiven past actions and I would like for you to return…” _the Emperor stated somberly, his voice trailing off. He didn’t need to finish his sentence for the meaning to be made clear. It was very evident he was asking Zim to return to the Empire…to him.

_“I…,” _Zim began, voice soft and wavering, _“I don’t think that I can do that, Tallest Red.” _Zim’s statement wasn’t confrontational, but rather apologetic, sadness and regret nearly tangible in his tone. For an instant, an expression flashed over the Emperor’s face that Dib could almost call devastation. But it was just a flash, instantly smoothed back over into his calm and tempered frown.

_“…Very well,” _the Emperor replied after a while, his voice calm and cool as ever. _“Just be aware…I will not stop in my pursuit of you.” _At this Zim gave a sort of smile, sad yet playful.

_“Let it be that way then. Catch me if you can, My Tallest.” _

Then Zim snapped his clawed fingers together and suddenly Gir was there in an instant, plunging an arm into the console. The monitor blinked then went dark. The Emperor was gone. For now.

*

Zim rose from his chair swiftly and turned on his heel, quickly heading for his private chambers. He heard Dib clamber up from his chair and quickly fall in step behind him, his heavy boot falls echoing after Zim’s own heel clicks.

“Zim, woah, hey…are you okay? Do you want to talk or…?” his voice trailed off, concern and worry in his voice. Breathing deeply, Zim attempted to steady his own.

“Do not worry for me, Dib. I simply need to rest and think on some things. I will return within a few hours,” Zim replied primly, never breaking or slowing his stride as he made his way back to his chambers.

“Okay, you say that, but how am I not supposed to worry about you?” Dib asked incredulously, jogging so that he stood directly in from of Zim, blocking his way. Zim found his face directly in front of Dib’s broad chest, the human effectively halting him. Damn Dib and his…bigness.

“Dib…” Zim warned, antennae twitching in irritation, but they quickly stilled when Dib wrapped his arms around Zim, enfolding him in what the humans called a hug. Large hand cradling the back of his hand, fingers interlaced between his antennae, Zim found his face nestled against Dib’s chest as he embraced him. Head to chest, Zim could hear the human’s heartbeat, thumping muted beneath muscles and bones.

“Listen, I just…I know you’re really stressed out about all this and I want you to know that I’m here for you,” Dib mumbled against the top of Zim’s head, breath ghosting across Zim’s skin. After a moment Zim found himself wrapping his arms around Dib’s waist and further burying into Dib’s jacket, wanting to just hide away for a moment.

The two stood like that for a while, in a silent embrace, before Zim finally pulled away.

“Thank you, Dib. I do feel…better,” Zim admitted, a light flush warming his cheeks. At his admittance Dib beamed, his face breaking into a wide smile. It was true, Zim did feel somewhat reassured. It was nice…having a partner.

“However, I would still like to go think and rest,” Zim stated, nodding his head towards his chambers.

“Yeah, of course,” Dib nodded, releasing Zim from his warm grip, “take as much time as you need. I’ll handle things until you’re ready.” Zim quickly thanked Dib and began making his way further into the ship once again, heel clicks sharp against the metallic flooring. Finally, he reached his chamber and as the heavy door slid shut behind him Zim let out a heavy sigh. Putting a finger into his mouth, Zim peeled his glove away from his wrist with his teeth, the garment falling to the floor with a soft thud. Grasping his other glove, it soon joined its partner on the floor. Fingers now free, Zim took a moment to stretch them, watching with mild interest as his nails gleamed in the low light of his room.

Slowly, Zim reached an arm behind his head until his bare fingertips brushed against the zipper on the back of his neck, gently tugging it downwards until the silken dress had fallen away from his shoulders. Satisfied, Zim crossed his arms across his narrow chest to grasp the dress of either side, languidly peeling it over his arms and down his thin waist.

The dress was now bunched around his hips, Zim nude from the waist up. Leaning his bare back against a wall, shivering at the cool contact, Zim lifted one long leg up so he could push his thigh high boot down and off, the shoe thudding loudly against the floor. Sighing, he repeated the action, raising his other leg to strip that boot off as well. Now he could finally remove the dress.

Grasping the soft garment gently, Zim shimmied his hips, the tight pink fabric clinging to his legs as he pushed it to the floor. Now only in his shear black tights, Zim made his way to the bed, falling backwards into it, relishing as the soft fabric brushed against his naked back.

Spreading his legs and planting his feet firmly against the mattress, Zim lifted his hips into the air and grasped his leggings. Taking his time, Zim stripped the tight fabric away from his thighs, pale green skin almost glowing in the soft light of the bedroom. Tights bunched around his knees, Zim collapsed back onto the bed, raising his legs so they were straight in the air. Reaching upwards, Zim grasped the toe of his black leggings to swiftly tug them away, tossing them carelessly over his head and on to the floor. Feet now bare, Zim stretched out his three taloned toes, nails protracting as he arched his back.

Now Zim lie on his bed in only his pale pink underthings, breathing deeply as he attempted to relax. Goosebumps rippled across his flesh as a small shiver ran down his spine, causing Zim to curl his toes again. Sitting up, Zim pulled away the covers so that he could dive beneath them. Deciding resting would do him well, so his mind couldn’t dwell on the events of the past hour, Zim closed his eyes and willed himself to let sleep overtake him. Trying to get comfortable, Zim turned on his side and rubbed his bare legs together in an attempt to warm the blankets. When his thighs met, however, Zim’s eyes shot open.

Gradually, Zim rolled over onto his back, feet spreading beneath the blankets. Taking one hand, Zim trailed it across his chest, over his stomach, until it met the fabric of his underthings. Fingertips ghosting over the fabric, Zim continued downwards to the apex of his thighs where his hand stilled.

Fingers dipping inwards ever so slightly, Zim froze before quickly snatching the blanket away from him. Nearly shaking, Zim brought his hand closer to his face to confirm what he could already feel. The tips of his fingers glistened with a nearly translucent cyan fluid, clearly visible against the pale mint of his skin. Zim swallowed harshly. Why was he aroused?

A completely stupid question. How could he not be? Suddenly all the emotions Zim had been suppressing since the damned call had been started flooded through him, setting his body alight. Irk, Tallest Red…His Tallest…Vermeil.

Just thinking of his name, Zim felt his underthings grow damper as his sex throbbed. Panting, Zim brazenly dipped a hand downwards again, this time slipping beneath his underthings so that his fingertips brushed against his pulsing core.

“_Oh Irk…fuck…,” _Zim panted as he brushed his fingers over the small bundle of nerves sitting atop his mound, the organ already expanding into a small erection. But that wasn’t what Zim wanted right now. He wanted to be filled.

Slipping his hand past his bulge, Zim dipped a single finger into his dripping slit, gasping in pleasure at the sensation. Zim couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so aroused. Continuing to toy with himself, curling and dipping his finger in and out, Zim thought of Red. Biting his lip, Zim imagined it was Red slipping long fingers inside of him, purring vile things into his ear while his hands worked to ease Zim open. He would sit Zim on his lap, make Zim spread his legs wide so that Red could easily access all of Zim’s most intimate parts.

_“Red…please…,” _Zim purred desperately, dipping two then three fingers into his dripping core, growling in frustration when his underthings prevented him from further curling his wrist. Hissing, Zim sat up and with dripping fingers snatched his underthings away from his body, pausing just long enough to see the large glistening cyan pool of liquid within the pale pink fabric. Tossing them away from him, Zim quickly fell back against the bed and began masturbating in earnest, small squelching sounds mixing with his desperate pleas and pants.

Then, instead of his Tallest Red, Zim saw Dib, leaning over him hard and panting. Startled, Zim felt himself tighten around his own fingers. Yes, his human, his partner had grown so much since Zim had last seen him. His Dib. He was no longer small, but large and broad. So protective and territorial…he yelled at Emperors for Zim.

Then Zim imagined Dib taking Zim, lifting him up so easily to settle him back down and have his way with Zim. Oh Irk, how had he never considered this?

Then Red’s voice was back in Zim’s head. Yes, Red, would push Zim onto his back so that he could admire him, run his large hands along Zim’s body until he reached where Zim so desperately needed him.

“_You want me this greatly, little one?” _he would ask in that damned silken voice of his.

“_Yes, Irk, please,” _Zim choked out, now stroking himself with his previously unoccupied hand, using his own fluids as lubrication. Red would chuckle, oh Irk, would he use his tongue? Yes, he would kneel and put Zim’s legs on his shoulders so Red’s wonderfully long tongue could press inside of him, taste how sweet Zim was. Zim nearly came at the thought.

Truly desperate now, Zim rolled over so that he was on his knees, ass in the air while he pressed his fingers deeper and deeper into his core. Flashes of Dib and Tallest Red ran through his mind as Zim felt pressure beginning to build within his body. Tallest Red would take Zim’s hips, whisper horridly dirty things to him while he lined up with Zim’s center. Then he would snap his hips, press in and-

Suddenly Zim was cumming, pale pink semen spurting from his small erection onto his blankets while his core absolutely dripped, translucent cyan liquid dribbling down the backs of Zim’s thighs to muddle with his cum on the covers. Toes curled, whole body taught like a bow, Zim bit his lip to keep himself from crying out. Bliss enraptured him, clouded his mind until he saw stars bursting behind his eyes.

Then he came down from his high, collapsing down into the pool of his own making, panting and trembling. Closing his eyes, Zim winced.

Maybe he wasn’t handling this as well as he had hoped.

*

Dib sat at the helm of the ship, chin resting on his palm while he thought. Recapping all recent events, it was likely Tak was captured, the Irken Empire was still pursuing them, an entirely different alien race could possibly attack them, and Zim was injured, nearly critically. That was…a lot to process. Not to mention that Zim was apparently soul mates with that damned Irken Emperor. Dib would be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly jealous.

But…why was he jealous? Zim was just his friend, right? It wasn’t like he was in love with Zim…oh good fuck, he was in love with Zim.

Dib quickly covered his face with his hands and groaned. When the hell had that happened?! When had he fallen for his alien neighbor? This was all so much, good lord, was he stressed. Dib just…just needed to relax for a minute just needed to…

Dib swallowed and turned to Gir who was, as usual, happily munching on snacks while sitting in Zim’s chair.

“Hey, Gir?” Dib asked, startled when he heard the strain in his own voice.

“Yeeees?” Gir replied in a sing song tone, smiling towards Dib.

“Do you think you could watch the ship for a few minutes…I’ve got to head to the bathroom,” Dib asked, putting a lot of effort into keeping his voice normal. Gir quickly jumped up and gave Dib a serious salute, throwing candy everywhere in the process.

“Thanks,” Dib breathed, standing from his seat. “I’ll be back soon.”

Quickly, Dib made his way to his personal bathroom, being sure to steer clear of Zim’s room. He didn’t want Zim to see him just yet, not to mention he didn’t want to bother Zim. He was probably dead asleep. Poor thing was exhausted.

Reaching his room, Dib rushed to the bathroom, throwing his trench coat across the bed on his way. Shutting the door behind him, Dib breathed harshly as he gripped the edge of the sink. Glancing down Dib could see his own erection straining against the thick fabric of his pants, long and running down the inside of his right leg. Taking his lip between his teeth, Dib ran his hand over his thigh, feeling his hard dick beneath his palm, giving it a squeeze through the fabric. Sighing harshly, Dib quickly set about unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, underwear too, until he could pull out his cock, hard, hot, and throbbing in his palm. Looking around, Dib realized he didn’t have much for lube, and resolved to simply spit in his hand.

It wasn’t ideal, and he would buy lotion later, but it would do for now.

Taking his dick in his hand Dib quickly began stroking, spit slick and rough. Hand stilling near his head, Dib slipped his foreskin down and ran the pad of his thumb over the pearl of precum accumulating at his slit, hissing in pleasure as he gave his head another light squeeze. Closing his eyes, Dib imagined Zim, down on his knees, wrapping his long serpentine tongue along the length of his shaft, looking up at him with those big pink eyes.

God, the fun Dib would have with Zim. The Irken race were hermaphrodites even though they didn’t breed, having both “male” and “female” sex organs. Dib could only imagine what it would be like to press into Zim, feeling his tight hot heat while Dib jacked Zim off. Fuck, he wanted to hear Zim scream his name, wanted to make Zim feel amazing, make him forget about all the other shit that bothered him.

Stroking intensifying, Dib was panting in earnest, lost in his fantasies of taking Zim for himself. Pressure began building at the base of his spine as heat began coiling in the pit of his stomach. In his mind Dib was buried deep inside Zim, biting into his shoulder while Zim cried his name. Tension snapping, Dib groaned as he came, thick ropes of cum splattering against the sink and up on the mirror.

Grasping the sink as his knees weakened, Dib stood there panting, feelings relief and shame both wash over him. So…he was in love with his best friend…

Standing up, Dib looked at himself in the mirror, his own cum marring his reflection. This whole space adventure was going to be harder than he thought.

*

Gir sat happily at the helm, diligently watching the controls when he heard footsteps. Turning, he saw Dib as he collapsed into his chair, looking a bit exhausted. Dib’s hair was mussed, and his pants sat on his hips oddly, not to mention thin sheen of sweat that was currently drying on Dib’s forehead. Man, that bathroom must have really worn him out.

“Feel better?” Gir asked playfully, shoving more gummy octopuses into his mouth.

“M,hm,” Dib hummed back, eyes staring off vacantly into space. Gir thought that odd but shrugged it off. Moments later lighter footsteps could be heard as Master Zim approached. Sliding over into his own seat, Gir looked up excitedly as Zim took his seat next to Dib. Gir’s two favorite people!

“Feel better, master?!” Gir cried happily, not minding that a few gummies fell from his mouth. Zim too, looked tired. His antenna was slightly crooked and his tights were twisted at the hips.

“Yes,” Zim replied flatly while he looked out the window. Odd. Dib and Zim weren’t looking at each other? Oh well. They always made back up.

“Well, I’m glad. Gotta’ go!” Gir announced, before quickly bounding off his seat and down the hall. It was true, Gir had his own things to do. At the top of his list, archiving his private conversation with Irken Tallest Purple. Unbeknownst to Dib or even Master Zim, Tallest Purple had contacted Gir to relay a message to him.

_“I know you love your master,” _Tallest purple had smiled so sweetly, making Gir feel very special. Yes, he did love Master Zim!

“_So, I’m sure you know another injury could prove deadly. If Zim is to be injured, you are to immediately forward me your exact coordinates so that I can…take care of him. Understand?” _

Oh yes, Gir had understood very well. Tallest Purple must really like Master Zim to be so worried! So, if Zim were to ever be hurt Gir would be sure to tell the Tallest.

He only wanted to help after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ʕ ·ᴥ·ʔ  
ʕ·ᴥ· ʔ  
ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ
> 
> Just thought I'd add a little juice to this chapter, hope yall enjoyed. Once again, Please leave comments, they always make me so incredibly happy and keep me writing. I am greedy. 
> 
> φʕ•ᴥ• ʔ Till next time babes


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, as usual!
> 
> Whackink has made some lovely fanart and is a contributor of a lot of RaZr artwork on Twitter, so please feel free to dive into the comments to grab that link and head over there to see it for yourselves. 
> 
> Myrriw has made two beautiful pieces as well, one of Purple and one of Red, once again, please click those links in the comments if you would like to view those pieces. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for encouraging me, as always, please let me know if you would like me to see any works you have made!

Zim sat at the helm, silently staring out at the span of space before him as he plugged a couple coordinates into the computer. Tiring as it was, they always needed to ensure that the ship was constantly moving so that they were more difficult to track. Dib had remained beside Zim for a while, also refraining from speaking. Zim was sure it was all in his mind, but it seemed now there was an odd tension between the two of them. Often he caught Dib glancing at him from the corner of his eyes before averting his gaze and Zim himself had been caught doing the same. Eventually Dib announced that he was going to go work on some weaponry before abruptly standing and walking away, leaving Zim a little confused. Dib didn’t…know, did he?

No, of course not. There’s no way he could possibly know what transpired within Zim’s chambers. Zim was just being paranoid.

Several hours passed without much interest as Zim navigated them, until a tiny blip on the radar caught his attention. Frowning, Zim expanded the radar to better inspect the anomaly and felt his scowl deepen. The ship’s design was not one he was familiar with, so it was unlikely that Irken were aboard, but the ship’s pattern of flying concerned him. The ship danced on the edge of the radar, flying in loose circles before dipping away again.

A scout.

It was not uncommon for a single, smaller ship to perform reconnaissance then report back to the main attack fleet, just as this ship seemed to be doing. Sneering, Zim decided to end this before it could develop into a problem. Locking the ship’s lasers on his target, Zim sent a blast straight for the enemy craft. As expected, the small ship had a forcefield, but Zim had put special effort into making his ship’s defenses top notch. Zim had always had a special talent for mechanics, especially the dangerous and deadly kind.

The enhanced lasers melted through the smaller ships shield and penetrated the hull, a small explosion following suit. Smirking triumphantly, Zim watched the ships pieces scatter in all directions, floating aimlessly out in the void of space.

In his hurry to destroy that one ship, however, he failed to notice the three behind him. That was, of course, until they began firing at him.

*

Pushing his glasses higher up on his nose, Dib sighed, eyes on his work but mind elsewhere. Their defense matrix could use a tune up, which was the task he was supposed to be completing, but Dib’s thoughts kept wandering, causing delays in his progress. Caught somewhere between self-loathing and elation, Dib was thoroughly confused with himself. On one hand, he had pulled the all-time dumb ass move of falling for his enemy turned best friend, which wasn’t ideal. On the other, the person he wanted to be with most called him his partner and they were space marauders together, so that was fun. Great, some would even say.

Dib got to spend all day everyday with the person he enjoyed spending time with the most. The problem was…Dib wasn’t sure Zim felt the same way.

In fact, what if he felt the opposite way? Then Zim found out about Dib’s huge crush and hated him for it? Shaking his head, Dib tried to focus back on his work. He would just play it safe for now, act like nothing was different.

As he worked in silence Dib narrowed his eyes as he heard the ship’s lasers being fired. Were they being attacked? Standing, Dib remained silent as he listened intently for sounds of battle. A couple moments of silence passed so Dib decided Zim was probably just firing at an asteroid or other space debris. As he knelt back down to resume his work, however, he was vaulted across the floor as the entire ship shuddered, the sound of canon fire ringing out.

Not waiting for instruction, Dib dashed to the nearest control panel and pulled up their defense protocols. Quickly initializing the shields, Dib prayed Zim was returning fire on whoever was attacking them.

Satisfied with the forcefields, Dib sprinted up to the helm where he found Zim, the small Irken focusing intensely on returning fire to three enemy ships. Since Zim was preoccupied with the weaponry, Dib took it upon himself to take control of the ship, turning the craft so Zim had a better vantage point.

Zim cast Dib a sideways glance and gave a small, mischievous smile, before returning his attention back to his work. The gesture made Dib’s insides feel a bit lighter, so he went back to steering the ship with renewed vigor.

The situation was tense. Dib maneuvered the ship to the best of his abilities while Zim continued to return fire. These enemies were either space pirates or part of the fleet attempting to battle the Irken empire, Dib figured. Being the violence bent alien that he was, Zim had gleefully destroyed one of the ships completely and put another out of commission. Now there was only one remaining.

Maneuvering them closer, Dib swung their ship around so Zim had a perfect shot at the enemy, one he readily took. Focusing their high powered laser beam, Zim flawlessly shot the enemy’s thrusters, causing a small explosion within the craft. Sitting back with a sigh, Dib felt relief wash over him. All in all, the incident had gone pretty damn well. Casting his eyes to the side, he watched as Zim sat back in his seat too.

“You okay?” Dib asked after a moment, voice softer than he meant it to be.

“Of course, “Zim snipped, but Dib noticed a light flush to his cheeks. Seems he still wasn’t quite used to being checked on so much. The two sat in silence for a short while, watching as the enemy crafts drifted about aimlessly.

“I think we should raid the ship,” Zim stated, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Raid…the ship,” Dib parroted disbelievingly. Zim nodded, apparently immune to Dib’s sarcasm.

“They could have supplies we could use, “ Zim continued, rising from his seat and fixing a blaster to his hip. Sighing, Dib pushed himself up and grabbed his own weapon, tucking it into one of his many trench coat pockets.

“Just, please be careful,” Dib grumbled, following Zim into the back of the ship.

The two took a small personal craft from their ship to the enemies’, parking it just beside the space vehicle. Using his pak legs, Zim secured himself to the hull and entered through a hole in the port side. Glasses transforming into a mask, Dib used the thrusters on the soles of his boots to follow Zim inside the ship, coat flapping behind him.

Once inside the two proceeded cautiously, guns drawn and eyes sharp. Every now and then Zim would attach a small device to an object or piece of machinery and teleport it onto their ship. The same device he had used on Dib’s jeep, he realized. Suddenly Zim stopped, Dib nearly bumping his chest to Zim’s back. Swiftly, Zim aimed his blaster at the floor and fired two quick shots.

Grimacing, Dib realized that Zim was shooting one of the enemy crew members.

“Just making sure they are dead,” Zim answered Dib’s silent question, pink eyes not lingering on the corpse. Dib’s did, however.

The alien was bulky, and their skin was a deep red color, covered in scale like armor. Dib couldn’t discern their face though, Zim had put two large holes in it. Bleeding a deep blue puddle, Dib was sure to step over the pool of blood as the corpse cooled on the floor.

Continuing their way back, Zim seemed satisfied with the loot they had collected. Dib had even taken an interest in a computer system that Zim had happily transported to their ship.

“Well,” Zim sighed, stretching his back,” looks like we are truly space pirates now.”

“Aye aye,” Dib snorted, a smirk on his lips as they began making their way back to the helm of the ship. He had been worried at first, but this had admittedly been pretty fun.

Dib began thinking of what he would create with their newly looted technology when he paused, lifting his boot slowly off of the floor.

Covering the sole of his boot was a thick, deep blue liquid. Swallowing, Dib looked at the floor the see that, yes, there was a large pool of blood there.

However, there was no corpse.

Snatching his gun from his hip, Dib quickly turned, now completely on edge.

“Zim, watch out, the alien is-“

His sentence was cut short by a loud blast, the shot hurting Dib’s ears even through his mask. The alien that Zim had previously shot in the head was now behind them, face in shambles as they gurgled heavily through their blood filled lungs. Acting on instinct, Dib took out a separate blaster than acted more like a shot gun and aimed it at the enemy’s head. Pulling the trigger, Dib shot the alien’s head clean off of its shoulders, a spray of deep cerulean blood spurting in all directions.

Wiping the front of his mask, Dib looked to the floor to see a small swirl of fluorescent pink mixing with the blue. Jerking his head up, Dib watched as Zim took deep labored breaths, leaning against a wall as he clutched his side.

“Zim!” Dib cried, vaulting over to his friend.

“Irk forsaken bastard got me from behind,” Zim hissed, blooding oozing between his gloved fingers. Wasting no time, Dib scooped Zim into his arms and began sprinting through the ship.

“Don’t worry,” Dib growled as he dashed between computers and consoles, “we’ll take care if it.”

“Of course,” Zim dismissed primly, but Dib heard the breathlessness in his voice. Taking the small pod back to their ship, Dib vaulted back onto the deck and rushed Zim to their small med bay. Dib was so glad he had insisted on installing it.

Laying Zim gently down on a cot, Dib initialized the medical computer, running a scan over Zim’s body. As he watched the computer’s readings, Dib heard small footsteps drawing near. Looking down, he saw Gir standing in the doorway, oddly quiet.

“Don’t worry, Gir, it’s going to be okay,” Dib assured him as he reached over to Zim to pull his dress away from the wound.

“…is Master hurt?” Gir asked simply, huge blue eyes betraying nothing.

“Yes, but don’t worry, he will be all better soon,” Dib replied, trying to keep the shake from his voice as he cut away the fabric of Zim’s dress to reveal a fist sized hole in his abdomen. After a moment, Gir simply nodded then walked away, claiming he had something to take of. Dib didn’t have time to contemplate the little robot’s actions at the moment, too focused on Zim.

Pink blood staining his hand, Dib cleaned the wound to the best of his abilities before relinquishing the task to the medical computer.

“You needn’t worry so much, Dib,” Zim sighed from his position on the table as the robotic arms went about cleaning and stitching him. “I will be fine, this injury is not severe to me.” Even with his dismissive words, Zim didn’t try to pull away when Dib grasped his hand. After several tense minutes the robot arms retracted, Zim’s side now seamlessly stitched together and almost perfectly mended. Irken healing really was amazing, Dib had to admit.

“That…was not careful,” Dib said after a while, shaking his head in disbelief. Zim let out a peal of laughter which proved to be infectious, Dib joining him in a joyful duet. Sighing, Zim swung his legs over the cot and onto the floor, giving his back a tentative stretch.

“I must say, I did not expect him to live after I blasted his face not once, but twice,” Zim admitted, wincing slightly as he ran his fingertips over his stitches.

“If we encounter them again maybe we could bring a flamethrower,” Dib suggested offhandedly, following Zim out of the med bay.

“Or perhaps disintegrate them,” Zim chuckled darkly, steepling his fingers in anticipation. Waving Dib away, Zim claimed he was going to his room to rinse off and change clothes. A small part of him urged Dib to follow Zim into his room, help him strip away his clothes, rub him down in the shower.

Shaking his head and willing his blush away, Dib sat down heavily at the helm of the ship, punching in some new coordinates to a different part of space. Turning, he saw Gir sitting on the center console, swinging his feet while quietly humming. While the little robot was usually pretty carefree, something about his mannerisms seemed especially joyous, which seemed odd given the events of the past hour.

“What has you so worked up?” Dib joked lightly, resting his chin on his palm. 

“Gunna’ see my Daddy soon!” Gir squealed, rocking back and forth even faster now. If Did had been drinking he might have choked.

“’Daddy’?” he asked skeptically as his face screwed into a grimace, wondering just what definition of the word he was using and, furthermore, which was worse.

“Yeah!” Gir shouted happily, “my maker!”

Dib felt his whole body run cold.

“Do you mean-“

Dib’s words died in his throat as an entire fleet of Irken ships instantaneously warped around them. Vaulting up from his chair, Dib intended to warn Zim, turn on their defenses, anything. However, several beams from the Irken ships fired at them and Dib found himself unable to move, blink, or even draw a breath. It was as if time itself had stopped.

_Stasis beams, _Dib realized with horror, having to wait motionless as they were boarded. In the distance he heard their hull being breached and shortly afterwards a small group of Irken soldiers marched onto the deck.   
  
One of the taller Irken clicked to her group to search the ship, the team quickly dispersing. Dib was frozen to the floor, stasis keeping him perfectly still. The elite sauntered over to him, inspecting him from head to toe. Her pupil-less eyes surveyed him and Dib took time to observe her in return, memorize her so he could hunt her down later.

She was a bit taller than Zim, probably right around Tak’s height, though she looked much different than his sister’s friend.

Her skin was a very pale teal, closer to white than it was to green. She had a single long lash atop her eyes, elongated and narrow, and a smaller lash on her bottom lid. Her lashes were sharp and blade like, giving her a severe expression. Where Zim’s eyes where a rich and saturated pink, this Irken’s eyes were a pale bubblegum, a soft pastel pink that clashed with her deep black lashes.

Even her eye shape was different. They were sloped downwards, towards the sides of her face rather than sloping in towards the center, giving her a sleepy or pouty look. Tak and Zim’s eyes were angled downwards towards their mouths, their expressions usually coming off as more aggressive, while this Irken looked more passive or even sad. Lids smudged with a smoky charcoal and lips lined in black, she reminded Dib of how his sister would occasionally do her makeup, except this Irken didn’t have his sister’s dark brows or any eyebrows at all to be exact.

Her antennae were unusually long, even to Dib who wasn’t all that familiar with the Irken species. They were straight all the way past her hips where they finally gave a single curl, ending in much smaller scythe blades than Zim’s. Too long to stay erect, this Irken’s antennae remained downturned at her sides, almost like loose ribbons. She wore a typical enough Irken uniform, save for its color.

Her top was as black as her eye lids, ribbed fabric ending just above her midriff and sleeves cutting off at her elbows. Shiny leather like gloves adorned her from her long nails to her elbows, tight against her pale teal arms.

A sliver of her bare midriff was visible before it disappeared beneath a dark skirt, the material much shorter than standard Irken bottoms. Fluttering when she walked, the skirt ended at her upper thigh, nearly as short as Zim’s newer garments.

On her hip was a holster but instead of a gun there was what appeared to be a whip, which was mildly concerning. She wore the typical black leggings beneath the skirt, but it was marred with several holes all throughout, showing her pale skin beneath.

As opposed to Zim’s thigh highs or Tak’s combat boots, this Irken wore black ankle boots with a tall chunk heel, adorned with small pale pink decorations to match her eyes. The same pastel pink was seen in a belt across her waist as well as a small sash on her neck, and Dib found himself wondering, not for the first time, why Irkens seemed to only dress in shades that matched their eye color.

Her pak was the same pale pink with pastel purple spots adorning it, the pak tubes looping under her arms to connect to the back of her neck. One of the more unusual aspects of her appearance were two small metal piercings adorning the sides of her temples. The bars were silver and laid horizontally, part of the slender metal disappearing beneath her skin to reappear on the other side, two small metal balls attached to each side of the bar. They reminded Dib of industrial piercings a human might have in their ears or maybe an eyebrow piercing.

On her forehead was the Irken insignia, a bit more ornate to show she was an elite but not nearly to the degree of the Emperors. Her expression was neutral, so much so that Dib couldn’t even put an emotion to it. Her pouty eyes made her seem almost soft, but Dib knew better than to believe that. After eyeing him for a moment more the Irken turned and addressed Gir who was standing behind Dib, or so he assumed. Dib couldn’t exactly turn his head.

“_Are you agent Zim’s SIR unit?” _she questioned, her voice oddly soft and quiet, not anything like Zim’s bombastic and snarky voice or Tak’s stern controlling tenor. Gir tottered over towards her bashfully, clearly confused as to why Dib was frozen in place but recognizing her as a person of authority.

“Are you going to hurt Dib…?” Gir asked after a moment, his metallic voice quivering slightly. The elite Irken regarded him silently, her head cocking to the side as her pouty pastel eyes glanced between Dib and Gir.

“_Should I?” _she replied coolly, her soft voice at odd with her sharp appearance.  
Empathically, Gir shook his head, antenna whipping from side to side.

“No, no, no! Dib is good!” Gir cried, seemingly beginning to understand the situation they were in. Clicking her tongue, the Irken took a step towards Dib until they were face to face, her’s emotionless and Dib’s frozen in a grimace. Her eyes bored into his and it seemed like she was contemplating something when her antennae twitched, her mask slipping into a minute frown.

Turning from Dib and presenting him with her back, she stood with a hand on her hip. A moment later Dib heard what she must have; Zim screaming.

Every cell in Dib’s body burned with the need to aid him but he remained frozen. It was like a nightmare come to life.

“_Unhand me this instant you boot licking scum!” _Zim shrieked as he came into view, being carried by two larger Irken. It seemed that they had torn Zim from the shower because he was barley dressed, only a thin slip of a gown covering him. Thrashing about in the other Irken’s arms, he stilled when he saw Dib. His deep pink eyes narrowed into slits as he bared his fangs, antennae quivering dangerously.

“_Shiv,” _he spat, regarding the Irken standing in front of Dib.

_“Captain Shiv, but simply Captain will do,” _she replied back, voice as soft and unbothered as ever.

_“Don’t you have better things to do, you little lap dog? Shouldn’t you be hunting down dissenters of the war, or have they grown tired of throwing you treats?” _Zim hissed, still thrashing about in his captor’s holds.

“_Don’t speak to Captain Shiv like that, you cur!” _one of the Irkens growled deeply, rearing back to punch Zim in the gut but the elite, Shiv apparently, held up her palm to stop them. She was so tantalizingly close, if only Dib could reach out and ring her slender neck.

“_While I would much rather be hunting down more challenging prey,” _she cooed, regarding Zim haughtily as her soft voice gained a teasing lit to it, “_I was given this task by Almighty Tallest Purple himself.” _Zim’s expression hardened even further, his fury tangible in the air.

_“I’ll never comply, I’ll fight the whole way, don’t you dare think that-“_

_“Oh, I think you’ll comply just fine,” _Captain Shiv purred, cutting Zim’s tirade short. Waltzing behind Dib, she suddenly put a boot to the center of his pack, pushing Dib onto his hands and knees. Still paralyzed, Dib could do nothing as Shiv twirled the whip away from her hip and wrapped it around his throat. One hand on the handle, one on the end of the whip, she began pushing her boot further into Dib’s back, effectively choking him.

_“You will come with me willingly or I will end this human’s life here and now,” _Shiv murmured softly, not strained at all as her small foot continued to dig into Dib’s back, whip tightening around his neck. Dib couldn’t even scream.

Zim’s face fell and he went limp in his captor’s grips. If he could, Dib would scream that he wanted Zim to fight, they could handle this, don’t go. But nightmarishly, he remained silent and still, on his knees at the hands of the enemy.

“_Don’t hurt him,” _Zim commanded, jerking his shoulders in an attempt to tear away. Huffing in irritation, Shiv wound the whip once around her wrist, tightening it against Dib’s throat.

_“Do not push me,” _Shiv warned, boot pressing further against Dib’s spine. To be so small, she was incredibly strong, not unlike Zim. Caught between his will to fight and his care for Dib, Zim looked completely torn. Cocking her head to the side, Shiv wound the whip again, another loop around her slender wrist.

Finally, Zim’s body deflated, his form becoming limp, like a discarded ragdoll. Seemingly satisfied, Shiv hummed softly in her throat and released the whip, allowing Dib to collapse to the floor, breathless.

“_Cuff him and get him onto the ship, Almighty Tallest Purple is expecting my return within the day,” _Shiv ordered, her crew members nodding as the carried Zim away, slapping electrified cuffs onto his wrists. Dib wanted to scream. Turning, Shiv bent down and scooped up Gir before handing him to another Irken.

_“Position him with Zim, attempt to keep them calm,” _she commanded, the Irken quickly nodding before scurrying away.

_“Captain Shiv, what of the human?” _some Irken asked from above Dib’s position on the floor. _“Shouldn’t we kill him now that Zim is gone?” _Dib’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he couldn’t even turn his head. He watched in terrified silence as Shiv knelt down on the floor, her gloved hand grasping his chin so she could further inspect his face. Those deceptively soft eyes bore into his, as if she were trying to discern everything about Dib just by meeting his gaze. A gloved thumb swept gently over his cheek, sending a cold shiver down Dib’s spine.

_“No…,” _she replied softly after a while, releasing Dib’s face to let it rest on the floor. “_He has fight in his eyes, I’d like to see what he can do. Might make for a fun hunt” _

_“But…but Captain, Almighty Tallest Purple said tha- “ _before the Irken could finish their sentence Shiv cracked her whip through the air, the black threaded cords now alight with sizzling pink energy, crackling in the dark of the ship. The whip cut a groove clean through the wall and the floor directly next to the Irken, a very clear way of saying that she could have cleaved them in two had she wished. Shiv hissed dangerously, her long antennae twitching upwards in a sign of aggression. The Irken crew member cowered, bowing their head to the floor in respect.

_“I will do what pleases me,” _Shiv spat, her pastel eyes narrowed and slender fangs bared. Her crew member nodded and remained silent. Sighing, Shiv’s faced was wiped clean of emotion once again, returning to its usual pout.

_“Although, I do suppose you have a point. Go ahead and board the ship, I shall end this human’s life in accordance to the orders,” _Shiv relented, taking a hand and smoothing down her antennae. Crew members scrambling away, Dib felt his heart beat intensify as Shiv turned back towards his motionless form.   
  
Wrapping her whip around her arm, Shiv bent down and took a small blaster out of her ankle boot, the weapon well hidden within her shoe. In his mind, Dib began saying prayers. Not to god or anything, but prayers that his sister would be safe, his father could find him, that Zim would escape. Angling the blaster at him, Shiv continued to stare at Dib with that expressionless face…then she fired.

A small hole sizzled directly in front of Dib’s face, the smoke curling into his nose. Kneeling down, Shiv gave Dib a smile that he couldn’t really call friendly, but it did have a sense of childlike innocence, a playfulness hidden behind those sharp fangs. 

It was as if she were excited that she just invited Dib to play a secret game of tag with her. Tucking her gun back into her boot, Shiv gave Dib a dark wink with her pastel pink eyes before sauntering back towards her ship. The only reason Dib was alive was because of a femdom Irken’s appreciation of a good fight. Christ.

With that cryptic action, the Irken Captain had turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Dib motionless and alone on the floor.

*

Zim’s mind was racing. How did this happen? He had been so cautious with his ship, how had he been tracked?

Shiv was an Irken bounty hunter, fairly well known throughout the Empire as the best in her trade. Her job was to hunt down deserters as well as aliens that attempted to usurp the Empire’s rule after their planets had been conquered. Occasionally, she would even reclaim stolen ships and goods if they were valuable enough.

She normally worked alone but it seemed that Tallest Purple had supplied her with a small fleet in order to ensure Zim’s capture. While it was Shiv’s job to hunt down beings with bounties on their heads, and it was a job she excelled at, she still shouldn’t have been able to track Zim to the point where she could warp directly to his coordinates. There was a piece missing.

The other Irkens put Zim into a holding cell, all but throwing him to the floor. Hissing in discomfort, Zim adjusted himself so that he was sitting upright, hands still cuffed behind his back. Watching in disdain as his captors walked away, Zim tried to sort this all out.

Dib was no fool, surely he had not been the one to give away their position. Zim couldn’t even dwell on Dib, couldn’t begin to imagine what was happening to him. Dib had to be okay… Back to the Irken. They had originally been contacted through Gir, so…

A horrid epiphany overtook Zim then. Of course. Tallest Purple had fashioned his SIR unit personally, he had a direct line to their ship. A direct line to Gir.

Resting his head against the cell wall, Zim tried to take a steadying breath. This had been a massive oversight on his part. Zim should have done more to sever the connection…he had just been so preoccupied with everything else. Tallest Red had been in his head…

He had to get back to Dib so they could run away together. Their adventure had barely started and Zim had already become a liability. Heels clicking down the dark hall drew Zim’s attention, and he watched, spiteful, as Shiv strode into view. Gir was resting on her hip like a smeetling, one of Shiv’s hands wrapped around his middle.

_“I have brought your SIR unit. He tells me his name is Gir,” _Shiv informed him, her soft voice causing Zim’s antennae to quiver. Zim wanted to spit at her, hurl some insults, but he held his tongue. She was in possession Gir after all.

Apparently satisfied with his silence, Shiv knelt down and deactivated the cell doors long enough to let Gir totter inside, before standing and sealing them once again.

“_What is it you plan on doing with me,” _Zim growled lowly, eyes narrowed into slits.

_“I was simply tasked with your return to the Massive, so that is what I’m going to do,” _she replied matter o factly, abnormally long antennae twitching at Zim’s tone. Zim’s heart began to hammer in his chest cavity, apprehension and anxiety beginning to take hold.   
  
Shiv must have sensed his distress, as she sent a few comforting clicks to him. Zim was too proud to return them, but, on some level, he did appreciate the gesture.

Seeing that Zim wasn’t exactly feeling conversational, Shiv gave a little bow of her head before primly turning on her heel and making her way towards the door. Zim waited for her heel clicks to dissipate entirely before allowing himself to breathe again.

This was…not an ideal situation.

Gir crawled into his lap and buried his head in Zim’s thin night clothes.

“I’m sorry Master,” Gir whimpered, cuddling as close to Zim as physically possible.

“It isn’t your fault,” Zim muttered, patting the SIR unit gently on the head. Now all they could do was wait.

Several hours or days passed, Zim could not tell, before he was visited again. Expecting Shiv’s crewmen, Zim was startled when he saw the clothing of the approaching Irken. Silver armor with red and purple adornments. They were imperial guards…guards which were only found on the Massive.

Heart hammering in his chest, Zim watched as the guards opened his cell door, one of them clasping Zim’s arms while the other pressed a muzzle to Zim’s face, the mask attaching itself to his cheeks, effectively preventing Zim from speaking.

Two guards hauled him up from the floor then, holding Zim by his forearms, before dragging him out the door. Zim’s mind was almost blank with anxiety and panic. He had not returned to the Massive since his banishment, this was his _home. _Continuing through looping hallways and twisting corridors, Zim did his best to recollect which part of the ship they were on. It began to dawn on him as they passed dimly lit rooms adorned with electric fields. They were in the “dungeons.”

This part of the ship was used to keep and torture prisoners, often resulting in the death of the inmate. Not where Zim wanted to be. The situation was only made worse when another guard grabbed Gir and broke away from the group, taking Gir away from Zim, through another hallway.

Zim tried to scream, to thrash and cry out, but the muzzle muffled his cries and the guard’s hold held fast. Soon Gir was out of sight.

Eventually the guards reached their destination; a solitary holding cell. At the center of the metal walled room was a flat observation table, glowing dimly in the harsh light of the single ceiling bulb. Zim swallowed thickly as the guards roughly threw him atop the table, his back hitting the metal slab painfully.   
  
He was uncuffed only to have his arms immediately wrenched from behind him, then strapped to the table. Ankles strapped as well, Zim was rendered completely motionless. The guards then exited the room, leaving Zim alone.

Chest rising in harsh pants, Zim tried to break free of his restraints even though he knew it was useless. Familiar boot falls began echoing down the hallway so Zim wasn’t surprised when Shiv pushed the cell door open. He was, however, not prepared for who followed after her.

Shiv entered then promptly stepped to the side, bent at the waist in a deep bow. Gliding silently behind her, looming darkly over Zim, was Tallest Purple.

_“Well hello there,” _Tallest Purple sneered, his smile all teeth. _“Imagine meeting you here.” _Zim snarled beneath his muzzle, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. Chuckling softly under his breath, Tallest Purple circled him, gliding silently above the floor, purple silks flowing behind him.

_“How long did you truly think you could evade us after we set about searching for you?” _he asked coldly, leering over Zim as his purple crystals caused reflections to dance across the ceiling. Zim, of course, couldn’t answer. Shiv remained silent at the door, most likely waiting for a dismissal.

Zim narrowed his eyes up at Tallest Purple, hoping he looked as furious as he felt. Tallest Purple feigned hurt, placing a jeweled hand over his chest.

“_Do not look at me like that, smaller. I am doing you a favor!” _he jeered, continuing to circle Zim like a predator does prey.

_“I had your little human pet eradicated and now you are back aboard the Massive, where you belong,” _Tallest Purple explained, his voice hard and scornful. Zim felt his whole body grow cold. Dib was…dead? Gone?

While on Earth Zim had learned the term “Heartbroken” but hadn’t really understood it. How could a fleshy organ break? Dib had explained that it wasn’t literal, but rather emotional. It happened when a human was overcome with sorrow and felt as if the very center of their chest might collapse, it was so painful and full of grief. Humans could even die of heartbreak. While Zim did not have a human heart, he had the Irken equivalent, and upon hearing those words leave Tallest Purple’s lips he felt it break.

Zim’s vision became blurred as opaque purple tears began to swim across his eyes.

_“Oh, don’t cry, now,” _Tallest Purple tutted, using a jeweled finger to swipe one of the stray tears away. _“Your true mate will be here shortly.” _Without another word, Tallest Purple began to glide away, his smirk still firmly in place.   
Zim couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry. He had gotten his partner killed, what more was there to feel? After Tallest Purple had flowed out of the room Zim had expected Shiv, that murderous wretch, to follow suit. Instead, she briskly strode over to Zim and bent down, mouth next to Zim’s face.

Zim instinctively lurched against his restraints, every fiber of his being demanding her death. She had killed Dib, that murdering wench!

_“He is still alive,” _Shiv murmured against his skin, before giving Zim a meaningful look. She then all but ran out of the door, leaving Zim alone once again. All the fight left Zim’s body at once, and now he felt like crying for an entirely different reason.   
  
Dib was…he was alive. Limbs collapsing completely against the table, Zim felt his body begin to warm again. He didn’t know Shiv’s motives but for now he would not count her as an enemy.

Zim was so caught up in his euphoria that he failed to notice the shadow growing in the hallway as its source grew closer. His eyes were closed in joy so he didn’t see the small red reflections glittering against the walls. Zim didn’t even hear the gentle swishing of the heavy cloak as it brushed against the floor. Didn’t even notice he had another visitor until they spoke.

_“Zim…?”_

At the sound of his name, Zim’s eyes shot open. He knew that voice. Would recognize it anywhere. It was deep and smooth and rushed over his taught body. Swallowing, Zim slowly lifted his head from the table, not really believing what he had heard.

Yet there, in the doorway, stood Tallest Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, mm, mm, love me some cliff hanger.
> 
> As always, please drop a comment, let me know what you liked and/or disliked, I always appreciate constructive criticism. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, till next time, babes
> 
> ML


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =(:3」∠)_
> 
> Welcome to this weeks installment of How Many Commas can MiniLop Put in One Sentence.

Time stood still. Red had locked eyes with Zim and the two had not moved since their gazes met. The Irken Emperor had breathed Zim’s name like a prayer, the sounds leaving his lips in a whispered hush. Zim attempted to call for Red but the muzzle prevented him, muffling his voice beneath the leather bound metal. Seeming to just realize Zim was muzzled, Tallest Red hissed and was by Zim’s side in an instant.

Red’s large hands were on either side of Zim’s face, long, deft fingers undoing the clasps of Zim’s mask. The muzzle fell away from his face and to the floor with a soft thud, Zim gasping in a cool breath of air. Now the two were truly face to face.

Gaze shimmering, Zim finally looked into Red’s eyes after so many years of separation. Zim wanted to be angry, be furious, hurt, but all he could really feel was awe. The inside of his chest pulsed with a warmth he had not felt in many years. Reaching out slowly, Red extended his hand and cupped Zim’s bare face, running his prosthetic thumb over Zim’s cheek, soft and gentle. Closing his eyes, Zim blissfully nestled against Red’s palm, savoring the soft warmth of Red’s skin at odds with his cold, sharp armor.

“_You’re actually here,” _Red murmured softly, thumb still caressing Zim’s cheek. Opening his eyes slowly, Zim looked up at Red, feeling a swell of contradictory emotions swirling within his gut.

_“Yes, it seems you caught me. Much faster than I had anticipated, but it is you, so…” _Zim trailed off softly, wanting to sit up but finding he was still strapped on to the table.

_“Is this truly necessary?” _Zim sighed, gesturing with a nod to one of his bound wrists. Red straightened his back and smirked, devilish and playful.

_“Perhaps not, but I must say,” _he replied lowly, leaning forwards and grasping each of Zim’s wrists in his hands. _“I rather enjoy you like this,” _he finished, face directly in front of Zim, so close Zim could see his own wide eyed expression reflected in Red’s deep crimson eyes. Sharp teeth gleaming in his smirk, Red leaned further still, face nestling against Zim’s slender neck. Zim’s heart was thundering and he found himself shivering when Red breathed against his skin, hot and dangerously close. Red seemed aware of the affect he had on Zim, and he chuckled against Zim, large shoulders shaking as a cascade of melodic chimes sounded from his many dripping chains and jewels.

Feeling a stir of aggressiveness, Zim turned his head and nipped Red’s neck, smaller fangs sinking lightly into the exposed skin hidden beneath chains and plates. Instead of pulling away, however, Red just tightened his grip on Zim’s wrists, hissing slightly. The sound Red made stirred Zim’s insides, and Zim had to bite his tongue to prevent a mewl from slipping out. Red’s hot breath ghosted over Zim’s neck, causing another shiver.

_“Careful, smallest,” _Red warned, drawing upwards so that he was meeting Zim’s gaze once again, deep crimson eyes half lidded and dangerous. _“Do not make me claim you here on this table.” _ Zim swallowed hard and willed his body to remain still so that it couldn’t betray how excited and anxious he was.

_“I am no longer your smallest. You saw to that,” _Zim stated, but even to his own ears he didn’t sound entirely convinced. Even so, Red scowled, hard and angry at Zim’s defiance. Releasing his wrists to grip Zim’s chin in his hand, Red towered over Zim, broad and dark.

_“Everything I did, I did for you. Even if I had not…” _Red growled, leaning down once again so that when he spoke his teeth scraped against the skin of Zim’s collar bone.

_“You will always be my smallest.” _With that decree, Red sank his fangs into Zim fully now, his longue tongue lapping over the punctures languidly, his hot breath fanning over Zim’s flushed skin.

Unable to fully bite back his soft moan, Zim found himself throwing his head back and panting, pulse racing as Red continued to lick and suck at his delicate clavicle bone. Hearing his soft sound of pleasure, Red growled, heavy and deep in his chest, and moved upwards to Zim’s neck, biting and sucking there as well. Zim cried out fully now, thrashing against his restraints in his need to grab onto Red.

Sensing his distress, Red quickly reached out and took Zim’s restraints, one into each hand, and ripped them clean from the table. Red always was a bit dramatic Zim found himself thinking amusedly, but that thought was quickly lost in a fog of lust as Red ripped the restraints from his ankles and lifted Zim clear off of the table. Instinctively wrapping his legs around Red’s corseted waist, Zim purred loudly as Red growled in appreciation, grasping Zim’s bare thighs to hold him aloft.

_“What,” _Red panted between sucking marks on Zim’s neck, _“in Irk’s name are you wearing?” _As if to prove his point, Zim’s bathing slip rode up even higher on his thighs, the fabric a sheer white that barely hid anything. Feeling his own surge of possessiveness Zim leaned over and bit Red’s neck, hard. Sugary sweet liquid oozing over his tongue, Zim leaned back and made a show of licking his lips.

_“I was in the midst of bathing when that savage, Shiv, you sent to capture me boarded my ship,” _Zim bit back testily, giving Red’s middle a hard squeeze with his thighs. He always did enjoy teasing Red.

Hissing in response, Red gripped the back of Zim’s collar and tilted him backwards, revealing more of Zim’s neck.

“_Absolutely sordid,” _Red snarled, fingers digging into the bare flesh of Zim’s thighs. “_If you had just listened and come when I called that wouldn’t have happened,” _Red rumbled darkly, marring Zim’s neck further with puncture marks and bruises.

_“There’s no fun in doing what you’re told,” _Zim hissed back, digging his talons into Red’s shoulders, working his way under the armor plates. Groaning loudly, Red roughly pressed Zim’s back against the wall and the two were eye level now, Zim’s legs still firmly wrapped around Red’s torso.

_“You always were insubordinate,” _Red growled against Zim’s lips, but it came off as more amused than angry.

_“You loved me that way,” _Zim murmured back, too lost in the feel of Red’s lips on his skin to realize what he had said. Red, however, had heard it clearly. Stopping his movements, Red drew back and looked Zim in his eyes, looking almost somber.

“_Yes. I did,” _Red admitted, voice calm and clear. Zim’s eyes widened and he felt the atmosphere become heavier, the lust dissipating and becoming something more meaningful. To an Irken, love was not a necessary, or even an accepted, feeling. Irkens had no need for love. It was an emotion that clouded judgement, it caused you to become a liability. Irkens required only aggression and loyalty.

Sometimes talks of love were whispered in hushed tones between two Irken that had chosen one another as mates, but it was unheard of in the upper ranks. Elites could take no marital mates and harbor no feelings for another Irken. To fall for another meant weakness and disloyalty to the Empire. Emperors were sworn into a declaration of nullity. They were never to take a serious mate, although they were allowed concubines if they so desired. To be soulbound to another Irken was a strictly a contract of loyalty and comradery. You were made for one another but even with such an indescribably strong bond love was not guaranteed or even expected.

So when Red openly admitted his love for Zim, no pomp and circumstance, just plain honesty, it took Zim aback. Words dying on his lips, Zim could only stare, starstruck and mute, as Red gazed back at him with an unwavering expression.

_Do…do you still?” _Zim finally asked, voice wavering and weak as he stared into Red’s eyes. Instead of answering right away, Red gently grasped Zim’s smaller hand in his and brought it to Red’s own collar. On his beautifully crafted armor, directly in the center of his neckpiece, was a round stone that gleamed, clearly well cared for and polished. The stone was one Zim remembered very clearly…for it had been the stone embedded into his own Elite armor before his banishment.

Rounded and pink, it was at odds with all the other gems incrusting Red’s armor, the others all angular, sharp, and dazzlingly red. 

_“I had it integrated when you…when you cut all contact with the Empire,” _Red admitted softly, something odd and strained about his voice. _“I…we all thought you had died.” _

To take another Irken’s armor was an ancient tradition, almost lost to time since it was so rare for an Irken to declare love for another. Still, it was customary to take bits and parts of another Irken’s armor and meld it into one’s own if they had held importance. Zim’s eyes nearly welled with tears just thinking about it.

Unable to summon the words needed, Zim instead closed his eyes, gently pressing his forehead to Red’s, just under his jeweled crown. Then, in the heavy quiet, Zim let off a small melodic peal, followed by a soft purr. Taken aback, Red remained silent for a moment, before he too closed his eyes and purred back. Red’s rumble was much deeper than Zim’s but their wavelengths matched perfectly, creating their own unique harmony.

_You were always with me_

_And I always with you_

*

“What in the absolute fuck,” Dib seethed, running a hand through his hair for what felt like the millionth time. After the Irken forces had warped away, Dib had been left alone on the ship, adrift in space. And now he had no idea what to do.

Dib had no inkling as to how to contact or track the Irken ships and now it seemed he was out of allies. Tak and not made contact in over a week and it seemed like she had been captured and even Gir had been taken with the Irken invading force. Sitting at the helm, Dib rested his head in his hands. Was he really out of options?

No. He was never out of options. Suddenly remembering an incident from is childhood, Dib was struck with an idea. Zim had captured Dib’s father and when Dib had no idea how to even locate him, there had been someone that had. Or something.

Tak’s own spaceship had been able to speak to Dib and take him where he needed to go, so maybe there was still a way for Dib to get out of this mess. While he didn’t have access to Tak’s ship, he did have access to Zim’s.

Zim had sold his personal Irken cruiser but had kept components of the computer, components which Dib had helped install into their current ship. Heart thumping a mile a minute, Dib lit up and turned on the control panel, fluorescent blue and green lights flickering.

“Computer,” Dib called out, voice wavering with anxiety and hope. For a split-second Dib was terrified that the machine wouldn’t answer because it was not Zim who called but, to his utter relief, the computer screen blinked on.

“What, human?” the robotic voice asked, sounding oddly bored. Sighing heavily, Dib straightened his back and started working out a game plan.

“Zim and Gir have been captured and we have to get him back,” Dib demanded, brow set and mouth a hard line.

“And how do you propose we do this?” the computer asked, its deep voice sounding unconvinced.

“We need some allies. I’m pretty sure Tak has been captured so…we are going to need someone else on the inside,” Dib thought aloud, rubbing the stubble on his chin. After a moment Dib hung his head, huffing out a sigh.

“Computer…contact Skoodge.”

Which was how Dib found himself begrudgingly awaiting a call from Skoodge. Eventually the communicator’s monitor flickered on and there he was. Dib didn’t have a very friendly relationship with Skoodge but he was Zim’s closest Irken friend so hopefully that would be enough. Skoodge was similar in color to Zim though his eyes were redder and skin more to the blue side than Zim’s green. Being even shorter than Zim, Skoodge was greatly looked down upon in Irken society, which directly contradicted Skoodge’s record.

While being short and portly, Skoodge had conquered a particularly violent planet by himself but was constantly pushed aside due to his stature. While Dib could empathize, he still wasn’t entirely fond of Skoodge due to a few confrontations the two had while Dib was still a child.

“What is it, human Dib?” Skoodge asked over the comms, getting directly to the point.

“Zim was captured by the Irken and I want to get him back,” Dib responded, just as straight forwards. Skoodge blinked his big red eyes once then laughed, though it slowly died off as he saw the furious look on Dib’s face.

“You…you’re serious? Zim was actually captured and you want…oh dear,” Skoodge mumbled, now looking deeply distressed.

“Yeah,” Dib grit out, doing his best to keep calm. Skoodge seemed to contemplate this for a few moments, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Do you have any allies aside from me for this mission?” Skoodge asked, completely serious now. Sighing, Dib ran a hand through his hair again.

“Well, Tak was helping us but now I think she has been captured too…Gir was taken and I don’t think there is anyone else…” Dib trailed off, biting his lip. Skoodge frowned and typed something in to a computer offscreen.

“There has been absolutely no one else who has aided you thus far?” Skoodge pressed, still engrossed into whatever he was typing. Screwing his eyes shut, Dib thought back as hard as he could.

“Well, I don’t know if it qualifies as help, but an Irken elite didn’t kill me when they were ordered to,” Dib offered weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. Humming noncommittally, Skoodge tapped a pink gloved finger to his chin.

“I suppose that is better than nothing,” Skoodge mumbled, typing paused for now. “Do you remember any defining characteristics of this Irken? Perhaps I know them.”

“I can do you one better, I know her name,” Dib replied, starting to feel a glimmer of hope.

“Oh? What is it, then?” Skoodge asked, already pulling up another monitor.

“Pretty sure her name was Shiv, or Captain Shiv? She had light pink eyes and long antennae,” Dib recalled, screwing up his face at the memory. Pausing in his typing, Skoodge sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Shiv? That is not…ideal,” Skoodge muttered, antennae twitching in irritation. “She is very fickle…it is possible she spared you then and would kill you without a thought now. However…” Skoodge trailed off, looking contemplative now. Gesturing with his hands, Dib prompted Skoodge to continue.

“She was in the same training class as Tak…it is possible she may want to aid her former classmate,” Skoodge informed Dib, back to his enthusiastic typing.

“That’s not a lot to go on…” Dib grimaced, not entirely sold on the idea.

“What do you suggest then?” Skoodge asked haughtily, arching a brow at Dib. Well…he had Dib there.

“Alright, so how do we get into contact with Shiv…to then get in contact with Tak, to then get Zim?” Dib asked, head already hurting at the absurdity of it all.

“Well,” Skoodge began, steepling his fingers, “Shiv is a bounty hunter. She tracks down aliens for their crimes against the Irken Empire…” he trailed off, tilting his head at Dib. Closing his eyes, Dib took a deep breath and sat back in his chair.

“So…to get her attention…” Dib continued, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling as Skoodge slowly nodded.

“You must make earn a bounty.”

*

After their shared moment, Zim and Red were forced to separate as a patrol of guards entered the corridor.

_“Remain composed,” _Red commanded lowly, causing Zim to scowl. When had Zim ever lost his composer? Even so, Zim straightened out his thin slip, smoothing out the wrinkles and doing his best to look modest. Not a lot he could do about the marks on his neck, though.

_“My Almighty Tallest,” _a guard began, the entire patrol bending in a deep bow, _“You are needed on the deck. A new fleet of enemy ships has been located.” _ Taking the information in, Red slowly nodded and began gliding over to the door, heavy crimson cape trialing behind him.

_“I shall be there shortly. See Zim to a private suite in the East Wing of the Tower,” _Red instructed, the guards saluting him as he passed by.

_“Yes, My Tallest.” _ Before the groups departed, however, everyone found themselves startled when Red began unclasping his cloak from his armored shoulders. Taking the heavy cloth in his hands, Red didn’t hesitate as he wrapped it around Zim’s shoulders, nearly having to fold it in half so it wouldn’t have a ridiculous train with Zim’s small stature.

_“My, My Tallest,” _one of the guards choked out, astonished at this break in protocol. Red simply held up a hand to silence them, turning away as Zim pulled the cloth tighter over his shoulders.

_“He cannot walk the ship in that state of undress. I have other capes,” _Red replied curtly, then he glided out of the door. The patrol all stood in shock for a moment, before Zim cleared his throat, giving them all a slightly smug grin. Scowling, the patrol captain sighed and ushered Zim into the center of their group, all the guards taking special care to not touch Tallest Red’s cape as it flowed heavily from Zim’s shoulders.

Walking the floors of the Massive was a near overwhelmingly emotional task, the familiar and new sights all impacting Zim in different ways. On one had…it was his home. The familiar Irken clothing and technology was all achingly close to Zim’s heart, yet seeing it again made him feel like an outsider.

He had been away from his people for so long, Zim couldn’t help but wonder if he could ever truly return to them. Being away had changed him. The heavy weight of the cloak on his shoulders as well as the familiar scent of Red did help ease his distress, if just a bit.

It was not lost on Zim that Tallest Red had instructed that he be placed in a suite that was suspiciously close to where he and Purple resided. The highest elites were stationed in the Tower, Red’s personal troops in the East Wing and Purple’s in the West Wing. The guards begrudgingly walked Zim to an empty suite and ushered him inside, locking the door from the outside. As if Zim had a chance of escaping.

Sighing heavily, Zim threw himself onto the room’s bed, curling up into a tight ball as the cloak draped heavily over him. Part of Zim was elated, but another was wracked with guilt. Shiv had told him that Dib was alive but was it possible that she was lying? If so, what was her reasoning? Conversely, why go against orders and keep Dib alive? Zim had to know.

He would have to figure out a way to get to the information center, not to mention getting Gir back. Curling up tighter, Zim closed his eyes and felt exhaustion wash over him. So many things to do yet he was so tired…and the bed was so soft…the cloak so warm.

Zim awoke with a start when he felt a presence, bolting upright into a sitting position, only to freeze when he saw Red looming over his bed. The room was dark, lit only by a soft pink light wired around the walls of the room.

“_Red,” _Zim breathed, feeling the cloak begin to slip off one of his bare shoulders. Red’s eyes were half lidded and Zim found his breath catching as Red tilted his head and let his gaze rove over Zim’s body shamelessly.

“_That color looks good on you,” _Red rumbled, putting one knee on the bed as he regarded the cloak. _“I look good on you.” _With that Red began to crawl onto the bed, Zim instinctually crawling backwards onto his back.

_“Why, what are you doing in my chambers, Tallest?”_ Zim asked coyly, feeling his face begin to flush. Red was now effectively straddling Zim, Red caging Zim with his powerful legs.

_“I felt the need to come and check on my smallest,” _Red purred deeply, trailing a single claw along Zim’s cheek. Frowning, Zim turned his head away.

_“I am not your smallest,” _Zim retorted, unable to meet Red’s gaze as he defied him. At that, Red sat up straight, appearing impossibly large as Zim still lied on his back. Zim expected an argument to ensue or anger, at the very least, but Red just gazed down at him, almost sadly.

_“Then…for tonight…shall we just pretend?” _Red offered softly, his voice carrying a heavy weight Zim had not heard in the years before his banishment. Zim was taken aback. This felt so terribly wrong and yet he found himself enticed by Red’s haunted words.

“_For…for tonight,” _Zim found himself whispering, the air around him becoming heavier. At Zim’s breathy reply, Red let out a rush of air, as if he had been holding his breath. Surely, Zim was imagining things.

Long arms reaching out, Red began to peal his cloak away from Zim until he was bare, save for his thin bathing slip. It seemed like Red was about to begin taking that off as well when Zim stopped him.

_“You…you are wearing too much,” _Zim grit out, his cheeks deeply flushed and breathing near ragged. Eyes widening, Red gave a short chuckle and sat back up, putting on a show of straightening his back fully and filling out his chest. Leisurely, Red reached over to one of his shoulders and unclasped a single spaulder, the shoulder guard slowly slipping from its position to fall to the floor with a heavy clang.

Biting his lip, Zim was already enticed. Smirking, Red reached to his opposite shoulder to give it the same treatment, movements slow and calculating. Only two pieces of armor had been removed and yet Zim felt like he had been waiting a lifetime. Humming softly to himself, Red paused.

_“What is it?” _Zim all but snapped, his impatience beginning to get the better of him. Clearly trying to hid a smirk, Red gazed at Zim with a coy look.

_“Usually my handmaids help to remove my armor…I’m just not sure I can manage by myself,” _he sighed, gesturing to the many clasps and buckles holding his outfit in place. Hissing irately, Zim sat up from his position on the bed so that he was also on his knees.

_“I think I can find a way around your outlandishly intricate armor,” _Zim shot back, well aware that he was playing into Red’s hands but too eager to care. Sighing contentedly, Red simply watched as Zim’s smaller hands felt along his sides, undoing the intricate corset that laces around Red’s slim torso. After an infuriating minute of unbuckling and unclasping, the armor finally fell away, landing on the bed with a soft thud. Zim promptly pushed it to the floor.

“_…That is a near priceless piece of armory, you know,” _Red stated flatly, not bothering to resist as Zim began tugging off his gauntlets.

_“Yep, don’t care,” _Zim muttered under his breath, pulling Red’s arm pieces off to reveal his bare skin, soft and pulled taught over his compact muscles.

_“You are really something,” _Red chided, quirking a brow as Zim moved hastily to Red’s other arm.

_“Zim knows this too,” _Zim smirked. Suddenly Red grasped Zim’s face and near wretched it upwards, Red’s lips crashing against Zim’s in an impassioned kiss.

Startled at first, Zim quickly melted into the kiss, happily parting his lips to allow Red’s tongue to slide along his. Groaning deeply in approval, Red clasped Zim’s back and drew him forwards so that Zim was now pressed to Red’s bare chest.

Mewling, Zim nipped Red’s lower lip, drawing the plump flesh gently between his sharp teeth. At that Red shoved Zim back onto the bed, back hitting the mattress with a soft thud, then Red was on him yet again. Nipping and licking Zim’s lips and neck, Red seemed completely engrossed in consuming Zim.

Dazed but still determined to complete his task, Zim reached out and grabbed the chains on either side of Red’s head and slid them down until they fell from Red’s antennae all together, leaving the appendages bare. Tossing the collection of priceless jewelry and gems to the floor, Zim grasped Red’s bare neck and clawed at his back as Red nipped a particularly sensitive part of his clavicle.

Whining, Zim wrapped his legs around Red’s bare torso for support. Irk, he had forgotten how powerful and…well, beautiful Red was. His body was slender and sinewy, perfect skin covering his stunningly sculpted muscles. Red wasn’t bulky, but he certainly wasn’t scrawny either. He was…perfect.

However, from the waist down he was still clothed. Hissing, Zim dug his heels into Red’s hips and all but shoved his armored skirts down his legs.

_“So impatient,” _Red murmured, but Zim felt his lips curl into a smile against his neck.

_“Just take those Irk forsaken leg guards off already,” _Zim near pleaded, feeling his core quiver in anticipation. Snorting softly, Red sat up and unbuckled his leg guards, setting them on the floor along with the rest of his armaments. Then he was bare, save for a single dark cloth covering what Zim yearned most desperately to see.

“_Alright,” _Red rumbled deeply, _“your turn.” _Deciding to play coy, Zim gave his head a shake.

_“No, I believe you still have something to take-“ _Zim’s sentence was cut short when Red grabbed Zim’s slip on either side of his body and tore the thin garment from him, the dress now two tattered pieces of fabric on the floor. Zim was now completely naked for Red to see.

Chest rumbling a in a deep pur, Red bent over let his eyes take in every inch of Zim. Running his large hands over Zim’s slender chest, Red let out a breathy sigh.

_“How I missed this,” _Red murmured, thumbs caressing Zim’s sides as he moved his hands over Zim’s body. Zim felt himself getting wetter just at Red’s touch. Inhaling deeply, Red rumbled again. Fuck, that sound did things to Zim. Before Zim could even beg Red to touch him, Zim felt Red’s hot, firm grip on his cock, causing Zim to nearly squeal. Panting, Zim tried to sit up and watch as Red’s large hand entirely encompassed his erection, deftly stroking Zim as Red looked on.

_“I…I need,” _Zim tried to grit out between pants, feeling an ache inside him so great Zim feared he might collapse from the inside.

_“I know what you need,” _Red purred dangerously, hand releasing Zim’s cock to slip one impossibly long finger inside of Zim, caressing Zim’s slick walls. Crying out fully now, Zim arched his back off of the bed, thighs quivering as Red continued to skillfully finger him. Curling his finger so it caressed Zim’s insides just so, Red smirked devilishly as Zim moaned, grasping the sheets in fear that he would fall apart.

_“Tsk, so tight, smallest,” _Red purred, Zim too enraptured to correct him, _“I’ll need to loosen you up or you’ll never be able to take my cock.” _Zim could only mewl pathetically at Red’s filthy words, feeling himself try to squeeze Red’s finger as it swirled inside of him. Without warning, Zim felt Red press a second finger inside and Zim nearly came, the slight burn nothing in comparison to the pleasure he felt.

Zim heard more than felt himself gush, an audible squelching sound emitting from his core as Red properly scissored him now. Growling, Red drew Zim’s legs upwards so that Zim’s pussy was directly in from of Red’s face, legs on either side of his shoulders.

_“So wet for me, smallest, you want this cock that badly?” _Red growled in between Zim’s shaking thighs, his breath ghosting over Zim’s slick folds. Head and shoulders on the mattress with his ass in the air, legs slung uselessly over Red’s shoulders, Zim could only mewl in agreement. Yes, he was so wet, so terribly ready for Red to be inside him.

What he wasn’t prepared for was Red’s tongue, hot and long, to suddenly join his two fingers, swirling and stirring up Zim’s insides.

_“Vermeil!” _Zim shrieked, back arching even further as Red thoroughly ate him out. At the sound of his birth name, Red gripped Zim’s leg tighter, fingers dipping impossibly deeper into Zim until it felt as if Red were fingering his very womb.

_“St-stop, I want…I want to…touch you,” _Zim pleaded weakly, knowing if this went on any longer he would cum. Humming, Red released Zim, fingers leaving Zim’s dripping pussy with a squelch. Lying on his back, Zim panted, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. Opening his eyes, Zim saw Red offering him Red’s fingers, coated in Zim’s own cyan fluid. Without a second thought, Zim opened his mouth and allowed Red to press his fingers inside, Zim tasting his own sweet and sticky fluid coating his tongue. Pursing his lips, Zim made sure to suck Red’s fingers clean, wrapping his tongue around each digit and suckling them thoroughly. Red watched him with a half lidded gaze, his antennae vibrating with appreciation and arousal.

_“Such a good boy, cleaning your Tallest’s fingers,” _Red cooed, causing Zim to moan around Red’s digits. Pulling his fingers from Zim’s mouth with a pop, Red settled down on the bed, lying on his back so he could spread his legs.

_“Now come here, your Tallest has something else for you to suck on.” _Quickly getting on all fours, Zim crawled to the space between Red’s legs and tried not to gawk. Beneath Red’s black underthings was his cock, hard and straining against the fabric. Upon closer inspection, Zim could see the tip peeking through the waist band, slick and bright pink.

Licking his lips, Zim gently nuzzled Red’s clothed erection, feeling the hard, pulsing muscles rubbing his cheek through the soft fabric. Sighing in appreciation, Red placed a hand atop Zim’s head and gave him a few pets, fingers trailing down Zim’s quivering antennae.

After a few more loving rubs, Zim leaned back and apprehensively pulled the dark fabric down. Red’s cock sprung up and bounced off of his abs, the shaft a darker green, slowly transitioning until it turned a hot pink at the tip. Zim felt his mouth water as he gazed at a pearl of precum gathering at Red’s tip, extending his tongue to gently lap it up. Humming Zim savored the taste, sweet and bitter, like a tart fruit. He wanted more.

Grasping the pulsing shaft in his hand, Zim leaned forwards and took the leaking tip into his mouth, tongue swirling around the head and against the sensitive glans, being careful not to scrape the sensitive organ with his sharp teeth. Red sucked in a sharp breath, biting back a moan. Humming happily, Zim slid his head down further, all the while using the flat of his tongue to lick and caress the underside of Red’s thick cock. Since one hand was unoccupied, Zim dipped it below Red’s throbbing dick to gently grasp his balls, rolling them around in his palm. Red moaned fully then, dipping his head back and Zim sucked and licked for all he was worth. Zim even dipped a finger inside of Red, loving the way Red’s breath caught at the feel of Zim inside him.

Spit and precum combined began to dribbled down Zim’s chin, but Zim couldn’t care less, wiping it off and using it as lube to rub Red’s shaft. Head bobbing, Zim pressed down until Red’s head hit the back of Zim’s throat and Zim forehead was pressed against the hard flat of Red’s abdomen.

Pulling his head off of Red’s cock with a loud pop, Zim grasped Red’s shaft and slapped Red’s cock against his tongue, loving the appreciative moan he received. Taking the head into his mouth once again, Zim turned his face so that Red’s cock was poking through his cheek, slowly turning until his cock popped out of his mouth once again.

Pausing in his petting, Red griped the back of Zim’s head and pressed down, Zim moaning loudly at being manhandled. The vibrations of Zim’s moan reverberating against Red’s cock, causing the larger Irken to throw back his head and growl. Once again using his slick spit as a lubricant, Zim began pumping Red’s cock as Zim dipped his head down and took Red’s balls in his mouth. Gasping, Red’s legs opened wider, his thighs giving off a soft quiver as Zim lolled his sack from cheek to cheek, tongue caressed the sensitive skin as his hand continued sliding up and down his throbbing dick.

Heavy and hot, Red’s balls felt wonderful against Zim’s tongue the smell distinctively Red. Suddenly, Red gripped Zim’s antennae and pulled him upwards, Zim giving off a soft whine. Without a word, Zim was flipped onto his stomach, Red hovering over him.

_“Are you ready, smallest?” _Red panted as he slid his incredibly hard cock along the cleft of Zim’s ass, the tip just barely caressing Zim’s slick folds before sliding away again.

“_Yes,” _Zim breathed, arching his back and pressing his ass against Red’s stomach.

_“Yes what?” _Red asked with a growl, bringing a hand down to smack Zim’s ass cheek. Moaning in pleasure, Zim pressed his face into the mattress.

_“Yes, My Tallest, please fuck your Smallest,” _Zim cried out, voice barely muffled by the sheets. Satisfied, Red gripped Zim’s head, aligning the tip of his cock with the entrance to Zim’s dripping pussy. Slowly, he pressed forwards. Breathing steadily, Zim willed himself to stay relaxed and not clamp down, allowing Red to slide his girthy cock inside of him.

_“Such a good boy, so wet and tight for me, yes,” _Red breathed as he, inch by inch, sheathed himself completely in Zim, the praise doing things to Zim’s head.

_“Just fuck me already,” _Zim panted put, gripping the sheets as he tried not to focus on how amazing it was to feel Red pulsing inside of him. Chuckling, Red gripped Zim’s forearms and pulled them behind Zim, suddenly snapping his hips against Zim’s ass. Zim cried out as Red began to fuck him in earnest, Zim helpless to stop it as Red’s long dick drilled him from behind. Not that he wanted to.

The bed was slamming against the wall, Red and Zim’s pants and moans drowned out by the loud slap of Red’s thighs against Zim’s. Releasing Zim’s arms, Red wrapped his arms around Zim’s middle, burying his face in the crook of Zim’s neck. No longer supported, Zim fell face first into the mattress, Red’s large body all around and inside him. Usually, the two would last longer. Usually, they could go all night, all positions, but tonight was different. After being separated for so long and now, fully reunited, the two were so close. And that was okay. It was just for tonight, after all.

Zim came with a scream, stars bursting behind his eye lids. He felt Red’s hips stutter against his own, Red moaning Zim’s name as his arms squeezed Zim so tight. Hot and heavy fluid rushed inside of Zim, filing him to the brim. It was all so much, Zim knew he couldn’t handle it. Zim felt his consciousness begin to fade, the last thing he was aware of was the smell and feel of Red all around him.

He would rest now…just for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need you all to know I was writing this in a cafe with a Muslim priest (Imam?) at the table next to me and I felt very unholy. I'm sorry you were in my vicinity, sir. 
> 
> Sorry to any Muslim readers, please feel free to correct me on that terminology. 
> 
> Hope that was..enjoyable. Never in my life would I think I would write about alien porn and yet here we are. Good thing Im pagan lmaoooo, sorry Jeezy boi 
> 
> I love all of your conflicting feelings about the ships, they amuse me greatly. 
> 
> Anyways! I hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a comment, they always motivate me to write! 
> 
> Till next time, my beautiful babes
> 
> ML


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments! I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter...  
you heathens.

“I do not like this. At all.”

Dib grimaced as peered out of the ship’s windshield, eyeing another ship far in the distance.

“Neither do I, yet here we are,” Skoodge hummed, sitting by Dib’s side in the copilot’s chair. Dib and Skoodge had come to a shaky truce, silently deciding that they would put aside their past transgressions in order to help their mutual friend; Zim.

“We need Tak to get to Zim, and to get Tak this is our best option,” Skoodge continued as he sawdered together a small pistol-like blaster. Sighing, Dib wanted to argue but knew Skoodge was right. The current plan was to begin robbing Irken freights in the hopes of catching Shiv’s ire. Suddenly, a thought struck Dib.

“Shiv has been on board this ship before…what if she recognizes it and knows it’s me?” he frowned, glancing towards Skoodge. Face screwing into a scowl, Skoodge tapped a clawed finger against his square chin.

“That could certainly cause problems,” he began thoughtfully, “I suppose our only option is to acquire a more fitting ship for piracy.” Running a hand through his hair, Dib nodded in agreement.

“Alright, so where do we get a space pirate ship?” Dib asked, the cryptid hunting child within him absolutely losing their mind at how cool that sounded. Skoodge shot Dib a look, as if the question Dib asked were silly because the answer was so obvious.

“From pirates, of course?” he replied in a surly tone. Dib could only stare blankly out the window.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting,” he grumbled, shifting gears on the ship before blasting away.

Thus Dib found himself in the orbit of an unfamiliar planet, scouting out a ship that apparently belonged to a small band of pirates. Skoodge had directed him as to where to go and the two were currently plotting to take over the ship. At first Dib had been extremely skeptical but had to continuously remind himself that Skoodge was actually a very accomplished invader, despite his more relaxed attitude. The small Irken clearly knew what he was doing…or at least that’s what Dib told himself.

“Alright, so we board from atop the back end of the ship and fight our way to the helm. We both have battle experience, so I think if we take it slowly and cautiously, we have a high chance of success,” Skoodge informed Dib flatly, using a makeshift holographic model to demonstrate. Resigning himself to the plan, Dib simply nodded, strapping a couple extra weapons to his thighs. Simple. Simple space piracy.

Dib followed Skoodge onto the enemy craft, glasses now formed into something akin to a battle mask as the pirates began opening fire. Crouched behind cover, Dib gave as good as he got, firing a large rifle with precision, taking out any alien crew he came across. Skoodge did the same, pak legs occasionally shooting out to sever a limb or help him dodge a blow. The ship was overtaken within minutes.

Taking the back of his hand, Dib wiped away a spray of alien blood from his mask, gloved fingers now slick.

“Alright,” Dib began, somewhat out of breath, “We have the ship…now what?” Skoodge had already made his way to the helm and was pulling apart the control console.

“Well, after we make some modifications, move some parts from your former ship to this one, we will head south east,” Skoodge replied as he casually tossed a motherboard to the floor.

“Okay, and what’s south east?” Dib questioned, already dreading the answer. Not looking up from his work, Skoodge’s antennae gave a little quiver. 

“An Irken cargo freight.”

*

Soft white light filtered through the blinds in Zim’s suite as the Massive’s artificial lighting system imitated the sun rising. Groaning softly, Zim turned his head away, burying it into the soft down of the mattress. As he slowly came into consciousness, Zim realized he was lying flat on his stomach, legs tangled in blankets.

Huffing, Zim pushed himself up onto all four and blearily looked around. He was alone in his room, small body only taking up a minute portion of his large, disheveled bed. Pillows on the floor, sheet askew and pulled from the mattress, blankets twisted into a hapless knot, it looked as if Zim’s bed had seen battle.

Suddenly the memories of the previous evening’s events slammed into Zim all at once, causing him to gasp and bury his face in the blankets once more.

What on Irk had he been thinking? Easy, he hadn’t, Zim thought with a scornful scoff. Blush burning his skin Zim unburied himself to drag a hand across his face. So. He had fucked Red. Been fucked by Red. Whatever, they had mated.

That had absolutely not been a part of any plan Zim had conceived. It had just…happened. Sighing, Zim sat up fully and straightened out his back. Now was not the time for sulking. Now was the time for scheming. Swinging his legs off the bed, Zim began making his way towards his suites shower. Or at least, he tried to, but his knees buckled two steps in, causing him to collapse to the floor rather ungracefully. His hips sung painfully when he rotated a certain way and Zim’s legs were wobbling, as if he were a smeetling just learning to walk. The insides of his thighs and, really, his entire backside felt as if it were caked in a sticky residue.

Blush burning hotter than a star, Zim gave a dramatic huff, tossing his head back in aggravation. How undignified.

Gritting his teeth, Zim teetered back onto his feet, having to walk bowlegged like an Urth penguin, just so that his hips would allow him to move. Completely undignified. Ridiculous. Good Irk.

Having finally made it to the shower, Zim’s eyes widened comically when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His body was painted in a myriad of colorful bruises and bites, ranging from a rather pretty pink to a deep purple. Groaning dramatically once more, Zim cranked on the shower and stepped inside.

Hot liquid searing down his back, Zim let his forehead rest on the tiled wall. So…he had been captured by Irkens, the very people that banished him so long ago. Alright. Then, his SIR unit had been taken from him while he was held in a torture cell. Mhm. Tallest Purple had informed him that his best friend and partner, Dib, had been murdered by a ruthless Irken bounty hunter. However, not two minutes later, said bounty hunter had informed him that Dib was in fact alive.

Why would Shiv, a noted sadist and hunter, leave Dib alive? Could she be lying, and if so why? Unable to really come to terms with his best friend being dead, Zim chose to believe Shiv. Dib had to be alive.

Was Dib looking for Zim? A way to rescue him? A heavy knot of guilt twisted within Zim’s stomach as he thought of what had transpired last night. Had he betrayed Dib?

The bold part of Zim vehemently said no, of course not. He and Dib were not mated, and Dib had no say as to what happened between Zim and his Tallest. However, a small voice whispered that yes, Zim had betrayed his best friend.

Tilting his face into the steamy spray, Zim set his jaw and made a decision. He couldn’t change his past actions, but starting now, Zim was looking for a way off of the Massive. Whatever he and Red shared, however powerful, Zim couldn’t let that bond become who he was. Zim was much more than that.

Stepping out of the shower, Zim noticed that an outfit had been laid out for him on a dresser. Face screwing into a frown, Zim noticed it was a traditional Irken uniform, ribbed dress and thick leggings, accompanied by small boots. Seeing as he did not have his own clothing, this would have to suffice.

Now dressed and no longer smelling of sex, Zim cautiously exited his suite and began exploring the Massive. It was so familiar and yet so foreign, a strangely tainted nostalgia following Zim everywhere he went. No one really paid Zim any attention now that he was traditionally clothed and no longer stuck out. He was like them now, just a cog in the machine.

Zim had decided that his first order of business would be retrieving Gir, so Zim was trying to think of where his little SIR unit could be. Gir had been taken from him, but why? Gir was difficult to work with and Zim doubted he would listen to anyone but himself…except for maybe…

Turning on his heel, Zim began striding to the opposite end of the ship, towards one on the upper most floors. He eventually reached a huge marbled archway, gilded in silver and posted with a squadron of elite guards.

_“State your business, Smallest,”_ one of the guards instructed, causing Zim’s eyes to widen. “Smallest”? How did they know who he was, let alone know to use that title? He had only been on the Massive for a day! Swallowing his pride, Zim decided to use his newfound title to his advantage. For Gir.

_“I have personal business with Tallest Purple. Step aside.”_

*

“You know, I really don’t think this is what my dad had envisioned for me when he sent me to space camp,” Dib commented off handedly as he whipped their ship through the empty chasm of space, ferociously firing lasers onto a huge armored ship.

“What’s a ‘dad’?” Skoodge asked monotonously as he manned a canon on the port side of their ship, face illuminated by strobing laser blasts.

“God damn it, Skoodge,” Dib muttered, careening their ship to the right, then to the left to avoid enemy fire. The Irken cargo freight was colossal, many times larger than Dib’s newly acquired battle ship, but size came with a couple caveats. The first and most prominent, the ship was incredibly slow.

Sure, it was well armored and could take a hit like it was nothing, but it didn’t have a chance at landing a hit on Dib. So it became a battle of attrition. Like a pack of nimble wolves setting their sights on large game, Dib would wear them down…then go for the throat.

A long and tense hour of battle passed, Skoodge relentlessly assaulting the Irken cargo freight while Dib simultaneously steered them as well as keeping his laser blasts locked and firring. Eventually, they managed to blow a hole in the side of the freighter.

“Quickly,” Skoodge said, leaping up from his station at the canon, “we must board before they have time to reactivate their forcefields.”

“Aren’t you worried they will recognize you?” Dib breathed as he dashed from his chair, following Skoodge to their small personal pod.

“I have been a deserter for years, this is known,” Skoodge replied, seemingly unbothered by the notion of being an outlaw. “Besides, you will be the face of this attack, not me.”

“God…damn it Skoodge,” Dib muttered as his mask slipped back into place.

Skoodge had assured him that this wouldn’t be much of a battle, as these Irken were simple drones, not equipped or trained for battle, unlike Zim, Tak, and Shiv. Dib had remained skeptical, so he was pleasantly surprised when he and Skoodge were able to conquer the ship with little resistance. There were only a couple of low level guards on the ship since the Irken Empire never truly expected anyone to dare attack them, and Dib had dispatched them with ease. All those years of battling Zim, a power-hungry combat fiend, had prepared him well.

After subduing those who attempted to resist them, Dib took out device from one of his thigh holsters. Appearing to be a small blaster at first, it quickly transformed until it resembled a substantially large hand canon.

“Stand back, Skoodge,” Dib warned as he leveled the weapon on his shoulder, voice coming through his mask as slightly robotic. Then Dib fired, a bright green blast exploding into the air, incinerating all of the supplies bound for the Irken mother ship. The kick back of the gun was rough, punching Dib in the shoulder but he remained standing, smirking as he watched all the alien supplies smolder in green fire.

“No wonder Zim likes you…” Skoodge mumbled under his breath, causing Dib to blush beneath his mask. Then one of the Irken crewmen hissed, a small female with dull orange eyes.

“_You did not even take our supplies?! You just destroyed them! What is it you want?!” _she cried, her crew members nodding mutely in agreement. Taking a deep breath, Dib hurriedly pondered on what to say. As Skoodge said, he had to be the face of this attack.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Dib strode over to where the Irken drones were huddled, boots planting heavily on the floor. Mask receding from his face, Dib angled the gun so it was laying horizontally across both his shoulders, making him look almost casual.

“I am Dib of Earth, and I come with a message,” Dib bellowed, dropping his voice an octave in an attempt to seem more intimidating. Dib knew Irken could understand his language, and he was that confident in his Irken, so English was his best bet right now.

“Your Emperors, the Tallest, have something of mine…and I’m coming for them,” Dib growled, before slinging the gun off of his shoulders and blasting their cargo once more.

*

Zim primly stepped through a pair of grandiose doors into a lavish parlor. It was similar to what he remembered, but then again he didn’t often come into this particular suite, even before his banishment. The ceiling was incredibly high and all the walls were white, elaborate molding along the ceilings and baseboards. A huge window made of the strongest glass in the known universe looked out into the colorful void of space, casting the entire room in a strangely eerie glow.

Sheer, satin like curtains draped from ceiling to floor, deep purple fabric pooling at the bottom in a shimmering lavender puddle. There were several portraits along the wall, some of the smaller ones of previous Emperors. Zim’s eyes didn’t linger on those. The second largest portrait was of Tallest Purple as well as Red, the two standing together in their ceremonial robes. Tearing his eyes away from that painting, Zim gazed at the largest portrait, feeling his lips quirk into a frown.

Painted in excruciating detail was Tallest Purple, or Mauve as Zim had known him before his crowning. He was in full armory, silver and purple glistening in the light. In his left hand he held a scepter, slim and elegant, an Irken relic. His other hand, his right hand, was what really caught Zim’s attention.

Held aloft, and bare of armory, was Tallest Purple’s hand…with his newly severed thumb. Held high, proud, in the shape of a V, the freshly sewn nub on Tallest Purple’s hand was the most prominent subject of the painting.

The artist had even taken the time to paint a small trickle of bright pink blood oozing down Purple’s wrist. It was an ancient Irken custom, the severing of the new Emperor’s thumbs. It was a show of strength and a test of fortitude, having both thumbs carved away from the hand with a ceremonial blade.

The ability to hold the Empire aloft with two fingers, that was what it represented. The new Emperor even had to rule for a full decade before being given artificial thumbs. Even then, those thumbs were never to be adorned with jewelry or hidden beneath clothing. It was a constant reminder of sacrifice and duty.

Zim remembered that day, watching from a balcony in awe as the two new Tallest were to be crowned. Vermeil and Mauve stood on a platform levitating over a deep cavern, the whole empire watching their every move. Vermeil, or Red as he was soon to be known, gripped the ceremonial knife, pulling it from the crystal where it usually remained sheathed.

Then, without hesitation, he laid his opposite hand on a slap of crystal, the clear rock long stained pink with the blood of previous Emperors. Back straight, eyes hard, Red pressed the blade to his own hand, having to put an immense amount of pressure to severe through bone and flesh with the dulled knife. Zim had watched in near abject horror and awe as Ver carved his own thumb away from his hand. He had barely flinched.

Then, with a shaking arm, he passed the blade to his freshly mutilated hand. Blood slick and painful, Vermeil had gripped the blade with just two fingers…and severed his other thumb as well, sawing through it with power and precision. The crowd cheered, roaring as the fresh blood stained the ceremonial slab, crystal growing several shades darker. While his face remained passive, pain was clear in Vermeil’s eyes, the corners prickling with tears as he tore through his flesh. No tears fell though.

Wiping his blood from the blade using his own sleeve, Red sheathed the knife back into its crystal before holding both his hands aloft for the whole empire to see. Fingers splayed high in the Irken “V” that was soon to be tattooed onto his forehead, blood running down his arms, Vermeil was named Tallest Red. The crowd roared so loud that sound warbled in Zim’s ears.

Then it was Mauve’s turn. Vermeil was strong, he was tough, he never let his emotions control him. Mauve was different. Cunning, manipulative, and deceptively clever, Mauve was a strategist more than he was a fighter. Physicality was not his strong suit.

Thus it was no surprise when his hands shook as he took the blade, pressing the long dulled knife to his skin. Vermeil, or Red now, had stood silently and watched with an emotionless mask but Zim knew him well enough to know that Red worried deeply for his friend. If an Irken in line to be Emperor was unable to sever their bodies for the Empire, they were not simply shamed or banished. They were to be killed on the spot.

The whole Empire watched in choking, tense silence as Mauve screwed his eyes shut and began cutting into his hand. Red was physically much stronger and was able to slice through with only a few passes, but it was not so easy for Mauve.

Cut after excruciating cut, Mauve sank the blade deeper and deeper into his raggedly torn flesh. Hot tears had begun to slide down his cheeks and Zim felt something akin to pity throb in his chest. But Mauve had made it. The crowd cheered and screamed encouragingly, happy that their blood sport wasn’t over just yet.

Hand shaking and breath ragged, Mauve took the knife to his other hand. Red continued to look on in silence, but Zim knew he was distraught. Hushed once again, the crowd watched in eager anticipation as Mauve sawed at his own limb, teeth clenched and panting. Then the knife hit blood soaked crystal. He had done it.

Roaring, the Empire screeched and clicked, all jumping up from their seats, Zim included, until the roar became a singular note. Zim thought it was so loud it must have resonated throughout the whole galaxy. Mauve, now named Tallest Purple, held his bloodied hands aloft, shortly joined by Tallest Red. Soon to be the most feared and successful Emperors to ever rule.

Zim was pulled from his reminiscing when he heard irritated voices growing louder through the open door. Soon, Tallest Purple glided into the parlor, feet hovering inches above the ground as his lavish purple gown flowed behind him.

“_Oh, of course,” _Tallest Purple hissed, deep indigo eyes narrowing in irritation, “_Only you would have the gall.” _There was a time when Zim had adored Purple, too. Perhaps not as much as Red, but Zim still yearned to make Purple happy, make him proud all the same. Zim couldn’t help but wonder if Purple ever knew that…or if he had always hated him.

_“Tell me what I want, and I’ll be out of your way,” _Zim replied simply, eyes following Purple as he glided over to a lush couch, all but collapsing onto the plush cushions.

_“I’m never free of you,” _Purple muttered beneath his breath, causing a sharp sting to dig inside Zim’s chest. You would think that, by now, Zim would be numb to rejection but still, it hurt. Not that he would let that show. 

_“I seem to recall you being the one to bring me here,” _Zim bit back sharply, eyes narrowed as Purple reclined on the incredibly lavish couch, reminding Zim of something out of the baroque era on Urth. Purple whipped his head to glare at Zim, chimes and chains shimmering.

_“That was for Vermeil. Surely you don’t think that I would ever want anything to do with you,” _Purple replied coolly, tipping his head back, looking at Zim from beneath his long lashes.

Again, that pain in Zim’s chest.

Suddenly turning his face from Zim, Purple looked out of his large window, deep, dark eyes betraying nothing.

_“Well, if you’re here to bother me, you could at least make it easier on me,” _Purple sighed, gesturing with a long, elegant finger towards a few chalices sitting aside a tall, dark bottle. Zim stood still for a moment, too stunned to move. Did Purple…want Zim to pour a drink for him? Head turning back towards Zim, shadowed lids shimmering, Purple quirked an eyebrow.

_“Well?” _he asked expectantly, all but snapping his fingers. Starting, Zim cast Purple one more confused look before slowly making his way over to the lavish side table where the chalices sat. This was for Gir, after all, Zim could play nice. Uncorking the bottle, Zim was overcome with a strong, pungent smell, so sweet it was almost sour.

Irken wine. It had been years since Zim had tasted the sweet nectar, just the smell enough to make his mouth water. Swallowing thickly, Zim carefully poured the wine, the deep purple liquid swirling within the silver chalice. Purple’s gaze was heavy on Zim’s back.

Pretty sure he poured the proper amount, Zim took the chalice and cautiously made his way back over to Purple. There were many protocols and proper points of etiquette when it came to presenting the Tallest with food or drink, but Zim felt he could forgo those. He wasn’t one of Purple’s handmaidens.

Extending his hand out, he presented the chalice to Purple. Cocking his head to the side, Purple seemed to contemplate saying something, but sighed instead, delicately taking the glass from Zim’s hand. The tips of his jeweled fingers brushed Zim’s wrist.

“_Did living on that hick planet for so long cause you to forget your manners?” _Purple asked snidely as he brought the glass to his lips, lidded eyes watching Zim intently. Swallowing a smirk, Zim instead plastered on a false smile.

_“Not at all,” _he replied coyly, purposefully leaving off Purple’s honorific. Scoffing, Purple rolled his eyes in reply and took a sip from his glass. Zim was enamored by the way Purple’s neck moved when he swallowed, slim throat tightening beneath his many necklaces. Zim quickly drew his eyes to the floor.

“_So, what is it you want from me?” _Purple sighed, holding his chalice aloft while reclining languidly against the sofa. Hands fiddling behind his back, Zim put on a brave face.

_“I wish to know where my SIR unit is,” _Zim stated honestly, doing his best to seem confident yet respectful. He kept his eyes at Purple’s chest level. Not on the floor, so he wasn’t submissive, but not meeting his eyes either so he wouldn’t appear arrogant. Even so, Zim could feel Purple’s searing gaze.

_“What makes you think I know where that defective little robot is?” _Purple cooed, taking another long sip of wine. There was that word again…_defective. _

_“If you do not know, then direct me to who does,” _Zim hissed, momentarily forgetting his place. Immediately, Purple scowled and his grip on the chalice tightened. Swallowing thickly, Zim drew his gaze to the floor and his antennae bent down in regret.

Quickly, Zim began to stammer out an apology _“I, I am sorry, I did not mean-“_

_“Come here,” _Purple ordered, voice hard with no room for argument. Zim clenched his eyes shut but obeyed the Emperor, taking tentative steps until he was directly in front of Purple’s reclining form.

_“On your knees,” _Purple demanded lowly, eyes half lidded and dark.

_“My, my Tallest?” _Zim questioned, confused. Zim didn’t even notice he used the honorific out of habit.

“_I said…on your knees, smallest,” _Purple repeated but this time he used Zim’s title. In all his life, Zim could not recall Tallest Purple referring to him by that title unless absolutely necessary. Too stunned, or perhaps frightened, to argue, Zim obediently sank to his knees. Now looking up at Purple, even as he continued to lounge on his extravagant sofa, Zim did indeed feel quite small.

_“Only you would dare to speak to me in such a way,” _Purple murmured but he didn’t sound particularly angry, more so as if he were stating a fact.

_“Perhaps that is why I am labeled defective,” _Zim retorted, unable to full quell his need to argue…nor his disgust at that term. Purple only hummed in response, looking somewhere between contemplative and irritated.

_“You used to be so enamored by us, what happened?” _Purple then asked, voice dripping with sarcastic venom. Never one to back down from a fight, Zim met Purple’s gaze unwaveringly.

_“I got wise,” _he stated, eyes hard and voice stern. At that Purple scowled, features hardening and sharp teeth now bared.

_“I could have you executed for such filth,” _Purple ground out, grip on the chalice tighter still.

_“I do not think Red would appreciate that,” _Zim smirked, using his newfound title as Red’s Smallest to his advantage. He had expected Purple to be angry at that, of course. However, he did not anticipate the look of absolute hatred that overcame Purple’s face.

_“Yes…you always were…off limits,” _Purple growled, voice incredibly bitter. Zim winced. Did Purple wish for his death so much?

The air was tense and Zim was too fearful to speak. Then the moment was broken when Purple sighed, long and heavy, before leaning back onto the cushions. Brining the chalice to his lips, Purple took a long sip, all but draining the glass. A pearl of dark purple wine shone on Purple’s bottom lips, glistening in the low light. Zim watched, entranced, as Purple’s tongue slipped from between his lips to lap the droplet of liquid away. Zim blinked, feeling his own mouth water. He was truly craving a sip of that wine.

Living on Urth for so long had made Zim forget just how in tune other Irken could be with each other because it seemed as if Purple read his mind. Giving a snide chuckle, Purple dipped a finger into his chalice and swirled it round the rim.

_“Oh Zim…always so easy to read,” _Purple remarked scornfully, smirking as his lifted his finger from the glass. Purple then lowered his arm, presenting his wine soaked finger to Zim as an offering. Many years ago, this gesture would have floored him, made him ecstatic beyond measure. Now though, after all he had been through and learned, Zim was wary.

The wine did smell irresistibly delicious though…

Tentatively, Zim leaned forwards and opened his mouth, tongue pinking through his teeth. Purple watched through heavily lidded eyes as Zim drew near, face a mixture of smug and something Zim couldn’t place.

Tongue slowly wrapping around the tip of Purple’s finger, Zim pursed his lips, completely encasing the wine soaked digit. Closing his eyes in bliss as the sweet pungent taste delighted his taste buds, Zim hummed, his antennae vibrating happily. This was a delicacy not many Irken were blessed with the opportunity to taste, and Zim was overcome with it. He was too enamored by the taste to really look at the situation, to question why this was happening.

_“Thirsty, little one?” _Purple asked, that smirk firmly in place. Blushing ferociously at his behavior, Zim quickly sat back with a start, Purple’s finger leaving his mouth with a slick pop. Again, Purple gave a soft, condescending chuckle.

_“As to your earlier question…I do know where your SIR unit is.” _

*

Shiv found the Massive to be indescribably boring. She much preferred flying about on her own in space, hunting where she pleased. However, due to some little Irken renegade upsetting the Tallests, she was stuck.

She wasn’t even a part of Tallest Purple’s branch; she was a member of Tallest Red’s squadron if anything. It’s not like she could refuse a direct order from an Emperor though. So here she was, in some swanky Massive suite, trying to pass the time. So dull. At least the Tallest provided her with playthings.

It was no secret that Shiv enjoyed certain…illicit activities in her spare time. Humming happily to herself, Shiv tightened the ropes on her newest plaything, smiling at her work. There really was a sense of pride in seeing your own handiwork. Shiv was an expert knot tier after all.

The bound Ikren squirmed and blushed against their soft rope bonds but, of course, they remained tight. Shiv was never one to do things half way when it came to having fun.

Just as Shiv was unwinding her whip from her thigh holster a loud knock pulled her out of her good mood.

_“I’m busy,” _Shiv hissed towards the door, antennae twitching in irritation. Again, more knocks. Growling, Shiv pocketed her whip and stalked to the door, throwing it open to reveal a pretty little female Irken, with big blue eyes. A secretary from the looks of her outfit.

_“This had better be important,” _Shiv began calmly, leveling her gaze at the girl, “_or you will be taking his place.” _Shiv gestured over her shoulder to point to the Irken currently tied to her bed posts.

“_Um,” _the girl blushed, quickly shuffling something on her tablet, _“Captain Shiv, there has been a sighting of a particularly dangerous pirate and…and they made a direct threat against the Tallest.”_ At that, Shiv quirked a brow. Pirates could be fun.

_“I see,” _Shiv replied, cocking a hip to the side. _“Do we have any information on their vessel?” _The secretary quickly offered Shiv her tablet, Shiv’s long and sharpened talons clicking against the screen as she read through the specs. A smile slowly overtook her face.

Yes, this could be very fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to have you all ship absolutely everything possible.
> 
> Can I get some F's in the chat for Dib, my poor man got cucked
> 
> Thank you for your comments! They nourish me


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! As usual, thank you for all the support. 
> 
> To the two people that left kudos on Thanksgiving, thank you, that was so funny. 
> 
> Blood mention TW 
> 
> There is an action scene in this chapter and I was listening to "Satisfy" by NERO as I wrote it, so if you wanna jam out, I would recommend it. "Blue Monday" by Orgy would also be a good listen for the action scene.

Irkens of every size and stature snapped at the waist as he passed, all falling into a deep and respectful bow. A small selection of Elites escorted him throughout the vessel, more for show than practicality. It was a well known fact that he could easily end the life of anyone who crossed him.

Still, it made his people more comfortable if they thought he was guarded so he placated them, playing the noble in need of his guards. However, there always came a point when he wanted to be alone. Pausing in his stride, he held up his hand, halting the guards.

“_I am going to my personal chambers for the evening. You are dismissed.”_ The Elites all bowed and turned on their heels, marching away in unison. Stifling a sigh, he pushed open the door to his personal office. Sitting down heavily in his large chair, war plans and attack strategies quickly occupied all fronts of his mind, losing himself in maps and pawns . In fact, he had completely lost track of time until a soft knock rapped at his door.

“_Red,” _a voice rang, a snide lit to their tone.

“_Pur,” _Red called back, eyes not lifting from his work.

“_Why is it that whenever I find you, you're hunched over some sort of desk?”_ Pur sighed, lounging dramatically against the door frame, hip cocked to one side.

“_Well one of us has to work,” _he replied, a smirk playing at his lips. Red heard Pur scoff, then light footsteps padded across the carpet.

“_Took off our belt, have we?” _Red laughed softly as Pur drew nearer on his own feet instead of levitating, _“How naughty.” _Purple hissed out a little laugh before hopping atop Red's large desk, throwing his legs across Red's papers and holograms.

“_You know me,” _Purple smirked devilishly, tossing a few of his ornamental chains over his shoulder. Quirking a brow, Red finally looked up at his co ruler currently lounging across his desk. Purple had pulled some icing covered pastry from Irk knows where and was currently indulging in it like he wasn't sitting on Red's furniture and interrupting his work.

“_Can you be helped?” _ Red sighed, completely giving up on drafting plans and instead propped his chin atop his palm. Purple took another delicate bite of his treat before glancing downwards towards Red. In turn, Red couldn't help but give a small smile. Purple had been his closest companion since...well, since birth, really. No one else matched Red in intelligence nor skill, not as far as Red was concerned anyways.

Through all of Purple's flaws Red knew there was a fiercely intelligent and manipulative Irken beneath the entitled and sometimes emotional attitude. Red knew many believed he was capable of ruling the Empire alone, and perhaps they were right, but Red would never wish for that. Purple was his partner, co ruler, and even friend for life. He didn't mind pulling the bulk of the Empire's weight. It was what he had been bred to do after all.

Back to the moment at hand, Purple continued to eye Red with a cutting look that he couldn't place an emotion to, before glancing away. Taking another nibble of his pastry, long legs outstretched as if unbothered, Purple glanced around the parlor.

“_I can't help but notice...” _Purple began, his voice carrying a sickly sweet tone that meant he was up to something, _“your smallest is no where to be found. I thought he would be glued to your hip,” _he finished, clear questioning in his voice. Red felt his smile falter. Purple must have taken notice, the sly bastard, because his antennae quivered ever so slightly before he smirked.

“_After all the trouble I went through to bring him to you, too.” _Purple sighed dramatically, leaning backwards until he was resting on his elbows, all but laying down on Red's desk. Red gave an exasperated scowl. Yes, Purple was up to something.

“_I can't help but notice you seem unusually invested in **my **smallest, Pur,” _Red replied snidely, watching as Purple's brow twitched. _“Especially since I seem to recall you never were too terribly found of him.” _Purple was scowling now, staring at the ceiling with a heated glare. After s few beats of tense silence, Purple cut his eyes over to Red.

“_I asked you first.”_

Red nearly scoffed. It was such a childlike response, but it was so endearingly Purple. Putting on his most emotionless facade, Red interlaced his fingers.

“_Zim and I spent the night together and now I am simply giving him time to adjust. It is a big change, I'm sure,” _Red stated nonchalantly, like he wasn't telling Purple his deeply personal business. A strange rigidity rippled through Purple's body, like something had been pulled too taught within him then snapped.

“_So you mated with him then,” _Purple muttered, something oddly accusatory in his voice. Only a lifetime of being a public figure and a mastery of his emotions kept the blush from creeping across Red's cheeks.

“_Well, he is my Smallest,” _Red replied, a brow lifting in slight confusion. Scowl intensifying, Purple suddenly bolted upwards in a sitting position.

“_Yes, I'm well aware,” _Purple hissed, abruptly swinging his legs off of Red's desk before tossing his antennae over his shoulders in a dismissive manner. Papers fluttered behind a whirlwind of lavender silks and Purple rose, scattering things in all directions behind him. Red stood from his desk, confused, as Purple began making his way towards the door.

“_Pur, wait, what is this about, what is the problem?” _Red called, brows furrowing deeper still. Purple sucked his teeth and didn't slow his pace.

“_There is no problem, I'm glad you enjoyed fucking **your **smallest,” _Purple spat back, swiftly leaving the room without another word. Red stood at his desk, baffled. Papers and plans were scattered across the floor, but Red couldn't be bothered to grab them.

What had upset Purple so? Perhaps it was the fact that Purple had never truly bonded with his own smallest and he was jealous? Whatever the case, Red would be sure not to bring up that topic again. The conversation had put another thought in his mind, though...

Perhaps he should be keeping Zim closer. Much closer.

  
  


*

  
  


Zim hurriedly rushed down a corridor, small heels echoing off the walls. This would be so much easier if he knew anyone on this Irk forsaken ship but his time away had made him forget the faces of many of his people. Not that he ever payed them much attention anyways. Tallest Purple had informed him that Gir was being held in a specialized section of the technologies facility, being repaired. That information, however, had come with a caveat. Zim was to return to Tallest Purple with Gir at a specified time for some sort of inspection.

While Zim was suspicious of Tallest Purple's motives, he had to play nice for now. While Zim was terribly conflicted and confused by his situation, one thing was clear to him. He was a prisoner here. Even though he was permitted more luxuries than the average Irken could never dream to have, that did not change the fact that he was held beneath the Tallests' boots. No matter how luxurious the cell, bars on the window were still bars.

It wasn't anything concrete, but Zim's loose plan was to use Gir to get in contact with Dib then formulate a way to get Zim off of the Massive. A small voice whispered that he should stay, be the Smallest he was bred to be, sit there and behave. Zim never was good at doing what others expected of him, though.

The sound of footsteps halted Zim on the spot, and he quickly plastered himself to a corner as a group of Irken Elites marched by. Technically, Zim wasn't doing anything against protocol, but he would rather keep his movements known by as few people as possible. Antennae quivering, testing the air, Zim determined the coast was clear and continued on his path.

After only getting a little lost, Zim reached the research and science facility at last. Roughly the size of an Urthling town, the facility was large, to say the least. The SIR Units were developed and repaired in a specific section and Zim did his best to look inconspicuous as he navigated the many brightly lit halls and corridors.

Finally, he reached his destination. Taking a deep breath, Zim tilted his chin up and walked into the SIR Unit office with an air of confidence. Sitting behind a large desk and surrounded by monitors, were two lower tier Irken. One was feminine and had misty blue eyes while the other looked a bit more masculine and sported pink eyes, albeit less vibrant than Zim's. Straightening his back a degree, Zim lifted his gaze to the pair.

“_I am Zim, Tallest Red's Smallest, and I am here to retrieve my SIR unit,” _Zim all but demanded, hoping to leverage his status so he could reunite with Gir as soon as possible. Ready for a struggle, Zim's eyes widened comically when the misty eyed Irken nodded and began typing into her console panel.

“_Yes, we were informed of your incoming arrival, Smallest, your SIR unit will be here shortly,” _the soft, nearly raspy voice of the girl replied. It was as if her vocal chords had grown rough and quiet from disuse.

“_O-oh, I see...yes, very good then,” _Zim stammered, trying to keep his haughty attitude going. Then, in a small flash of blue, Gir was teleported there, right in front of him. Elation ran through Zim as he laid eyes on Gir, seemingly unharmed. Blinking once, Gir's red eyes faded to his usual blue and a little jolt ran through the robot.

“Master!” Gir squealed, ecstatically leaping from the desk into Zim's awaiting arms. Grasping him quickly, Zim pulled Gir to his chest and gave him an epecially tight hug. The two secretarial Irkens looked confused at the open display of affection, but did not say anything. As Gir clung to Zim, giggling quiet inane wants into his neck, Zim's brow furrowed.

“_Who was it that informed you I would be coming here?” _Zim asked the secretaries, suspicious. The two Irken secretaries glanced at each other, seemingly perplexed.

“_Why, Tallest Purple, smallest,” _the misty eyed girl all but whispered, eyeing Zim with a questioning look. Zim's heart stuttered in his chest. Purple had to be toying with him. Very well. Whatever game Purple was playing, Zim would play too. And he intended to win.

  
  


*

  
  


“I believe you have some explaining to do.”

Dib frowned as he looked up from his weapon, hands pausing in his work. He and Skoodge were sitting in one of the holds of their new found pirate ship, stocking up and preparing their weapons, hoping to get the upper hand when they came face to face with Shiv. Skoodge sat opposite him and was giving Dib an expecting look.

“Explain what?” Dib huffed, eyes drifting back down to the augmented shotgun he was reassembling.

“Your relationship with Zim,” Skoodge replied, unfazed. Dib closed his eyes and let out an exasperated huff. First Tak, now Skoodge, who knew Irkens were so damn nosey.

“Yeah, well I think you have some explaining to do too,” Dib huffed, eyes locked on his gun, “ 'Cuz the last I heard you and Zim weren't exactly on the best terms.” Skoodge narrowed his large insect like eyes at Dib, antennae quivering slightly. Not wanting to start a fight and break their very shaky truce, Dib tilted his head back and sighed.

“Tell you what,” Dib began, setting his shotgun to the side, “ how about we have a Quid Pro Quo. I tell you something, you tell me something,” Dib finished, leaning back against the wall. Mouth downturned in contemplation, Skoodge seemed to consider his options before slowly nodding.

“Very well. You first,” Skoodge requested, causing Dib to roll his eyes.

“Fine. Well...when I was much younger, when you first met me, Zim and I were sworn enemies, but things started to change the longer Zim was on Earth. We kind of had a truce for a while and, well, that kind of developed into a friendship,” Dib finished, his chest growing warm at the memories.

“Friendship?” Skoodge asked, confused. Sometimes Dib forgot that Zim was an outlier and other Irkens weren't permitted to form bonds like Zim could on Earth.

“Yeah it's um...friendship is when you enjoy being with someone and it feels good to be around them...and you like the same things sometimes and...um,” Dib's face began to burn as he realized that his exclamation was beginning to derail. If Skoodge noticed he didn't say anything.

“I see,” the stocky Irken muttered, steepling his fingers. “Well then I suppose Zim and I have the friendship too. We were both banished from Irk and made outcasts because of our stature. We bonded over that,” Skoodge finished, looking almost sad as he stared at his hands. Dib simply hummed in response. He supposed that made sense, that Zim and Skoodge had something to bond over. Definitely didn't make him jealous.

So the two continued their little questionnaire, each taking a turn to ask about the other. Dib learned that Skoodge's favorite food was specifically lime jello, which he found amusing, and Skoodge absolutely hated pop rocks.

“Well, I know you and I haven't always been on the best terms,” Dib admitted suddenly, cutting into their light conversation, “but at least we can both come together if it means helping Zim,” Dib laughed, and Skoodge smirked, antennae quirking happily.

“Oh, how very sweet.”

Dib and Skoodge both whipped their heads towards the door where a soft and sweet voice had purred. Dib felt his heart stop then begin to pound as he took in the intruder. There, casually leaning against the door, was Shiv. Well...seems their plan had worked.

Skoodge immediately leapt to his feet, hands on a blaster, but before he could pull it Shiv whipped out a strange rifle and fired it in his direction. Skoodge froze in place, unblinking. Dib's veins ran cold as he recognized the strange aura around Skoodge. A stasis rifle, the same one Shiv had used on him. Dib and Skoodge had discussed that very weapon and Skoodge had informed Dib that is was a highly prized rifle, only recently crafted by the Irken empire. Apparently an Irken had to prove themselves by achieving a certain number of kills before being allowed to wield a stasis weapon. Not very comforting.

“Now we can be alone,” Shiv cooed, a dark look in her pale pink eyes as she holstered the rifle.

With Skoodge out of commission it was all up to Dib. Shiv giggled softly and leapt towards Dib, her muscular Irken legs sending her vaulting across the cargo hold with little effort. It had been years since Dib had fought Zim one on one but he still remembered the hidden strength within the deceptively small frames of Irkens.

Snatching his shotgun from the floor, Dib dashed out of the door and into the corridor, Shiv right on his heels. Heart pounding, Dib whirled around and jammed the butt of his gun towards Shiv as she advanced towards him. She dodged, of course, but Dib still managed to skim her cheek, a bright pink cut ripping across her face as Dib put all the brute force into the hit as he could muster. Shiv, startled, stumbled and took a step back, slowly lifting a hand to her face, long, sharp nails lightly dancing across the small laceration adorning her cheek.

Quickly backing up, Dib finished assembling the shotgun as fast as he could while Shiv was momentarily distracted. Dib's hands shook with adrenaline as he watched Shiv rub a droplet of her own blood between her fingertips then...lick it.

Her long serpentine tongue gently wrapped around her fingers and Shiv's face split into an eerie smile.

“I knew you'd be fun,” Shiv suddenly cooed, sounding breathless. Ignoring her, Dib lifted his gun and took a shot. Giggling lightly, Shiv danced out of the way and pulled her whip from the holster high up on her thigh. The black whip suddenly crackled to life, bright pink electricity dancing along the leather.

Dib swallowed and did his best to dodge her onslaught, using his gun more as a melee weapon than anything. Their plan wasn't to her kill her, after all, they needed Shiv to get to Tak.

“H-hey, listen, I need to talk to you!” Dib cried out as her crackling whip wrapped around his shotgun, wrenching it from his hands as she drew her whip back. Ducking into another door, Dib found himself in one of the supply rooms. The pink whip suddenly cracked into the room, wrapping around a pipe along the ceiling as Shiv swung in, gliding through the air and landing delicately on her feet right in front of Dib.

“Boring. This is better,” Shiv purred softly, her stiletto heels nearly puncturing a hole in Dib's leg as he vaulted away, her leg instead crashing into the wall so hard it made a sizable dent. Dib swallowed hard as he eyed the chasm in the wall. He may not want to, but it seemed like he may have to battle like his life depended on it.

“I don't want to fight you,” Dib ground out as he pulled a gun from his thigh holster and took several shots at her small form, the black clad Irken leaping backwards to avoid the high powered bullets.

“Well you're going to have to,” Shiv cooed, crouching down before vaulting over to Dib, managing to wrap her whip around one of his ankles. Dib gasped as Shiv suddenly pulled her whip taught, causing Dib to crash to the floor, flat on his back. Lifting one leg above her head, Shiv brought it crashing down, aiming for Dib's chest. Using his unbound foot, Dib swept Shiv's legs and threw her off balance, causing her heel to crash to the ground just beside Dib. Pulling his pistol out, Dib took a slew of shots, only managing to make one, a hit grazing Shiv's shoulder.

Shiv gave a hiss that Dib was tempted to label as sexual before he found himself bracing for impact when she gave him a dark look. Leaping into the air, Shiv brought her heeled feet down with a thunderous slam, trapping both of Dib's wrists between the stiletto heels of her shoes and the soul of her feet. Tugging on his arms with all his might, Dib was horrified to find he could'e break free. He looked up and felt the color drain from his face then erupt back into red because at this angle he could see straight up Shiv's short leather skirt.

“Oh my god,” Dib quickly stammered out, completely caught off guard by the sight of sheer Irken panties. Not seeming to notice Dib's plight, Shiv dropped down, her knees crashing into the hard muscle of Dib's biceps painfully. Now Shiv sat atop Dib's chest, her knees digging harshly into his arms and preventing him from moving.

Before Dib could even begin to take in the compromising position, Shiv took a deep stuttering breath before pulling back her arm and punching Dib directly in his face. Her hips being directly in Dib's face was quickly forgotten as Dib's cheek bones sang painfully. She quickly followed up with several more quick jabs, biting her lips as she hummed happily in her throat.

Since he couldn't use his arms Dib braced both his feet against the floor, heavy boots thudding loudly, before thrusting his hips upwards as hard as he could, bucking Shiv off of his chest. She gave a little gasp before toppling over onto her side, leather clothing rustling against the cold metal floor.

Not letting the opportunity pass, Dib quickly rolled over onto Shiv so that their positions were now reversed. Grabbing both her wrists in his hands, Dib held Shiv's arms to the side while using his larger body to pin her to the floor, but not before throwing one punch of his own as retribution. The two of them were now panting and bleeding from the face, but Shiv seemed to be enjoying herself more than anything. Her pastel pink eyes were half lidded and she still held a soft smile, sharp teeth peeking out from behind her split lip. Her black eyeshadow was smudged and her lips were slick with blood but she didn't seem to mind.

“I don't...want...to fight you...” Dib panted out, feeling sweat and blood begin to drip down his face. “I need...I need your help.” Dib could feel Shiv's chest rising and meeting his inner thighs as she laughed, a strange soft and light peal.

“I told you, I don't care,” she laughed breathlessly, shaking her head in disbelief. “I came here to fight and that's what I will do.” With that Shiv wrapped her long legs around Dib's middle and began squeezing. Dib choked out a gasp as she began to crush his middle like a powerful constrictor.

“Come on,” she urged breathlessly, “get mad.” Gritting his teeth in a pained grimace, Dib reeled back and punched her face as hard as he could, snapping her head to the side harshly. Shiv spat out a small splatter of florescent pink blood but continued to smile. Legs squeezing tighter still, Dib was sure his ribs would crack soon.

“Not enough, come on,” Shiv gasped out, hot pink blood trickling down her chin. Dib didn't think it was possible, but Shiv began to squeeze her thighs tighter and Dib was sure he heard his bones creak. Seeing no other option, Dib released Shiv and fell backwards, every pant painful in his chest. Shiv stood on shaky legs and began making her way towards him, delivering a swift and sharp kick to Dib's already tender ribs.

Crying out, Dib rolled over onto his hands and knees, clutching his side.

“You say you don't want to fight,” Shiv sighed in that strangely soft voice, “but I think I can change that.” Another kick, this time to the center of Dib's back.

“When you and that degenerate were talking about how much you appreciate each other,” Shiv taunted cruelly, wrapping her whip around Dib's wrists and wrenching his arms behind his back, “you two just couldn't shut up about little Zim, could you?” she cooed into Dib's ear, her breath brushing his hair. Dib groaned and attempted to break free of the whip but it held fast. Another kick to his side.

“Well what if I told you what sweet little Zim has been up to since his capture?” Shiv whispered into Dib's ear, his back and neck rippling with goosebumps as her hot breath fanned over his sweat chilled skin. Then she slapped his face, small palm cracking against the skin of his cheek.

“Sh-shut up,” Dib growled, blood dripping from his lips and down his chin to splatter lightly on the floor. Shiv stood and simply tutted.

“Better, but not enough,” she murmured. Another kick. “Let me just tell you then, since you're too weak to fight back,” she taunted, clearly baiting Dib.

“Shut...the hell...up,” Dib groaned, straining his shoulders in a weak attempt to get away. Shiv sighed, sounding genuinely irritated.

“How disappointing,” she muttered before planting a heeled shoe to the back of Dib's head, forcing his face down to the floor while the whip pulled tight at his wrists.

“I supposed I'll tell you anyways, you should at least know before you die,” Shiv murmured softly, her voice cold and no longer mirthful. “The first night he was home Zim got fucked so loud the entire Massive heard it.”

Dib's body went rigid. Wait. What? _What?_ Shiv gave a little gasp as she saw the change in Dib's body language. A smile slowly twisted her lips.

“Oh yeah, you like that? You like hearing about how your little Zim went straight to bed with Almighty Tallest Red? How he got fucked so good he screamed?” Shiv egged on, continuing to press her heel into the back of Dib's head.

Dib's vision was beginning to blur. Zim did what? He...he had sex with that Emperor? But...but Zim said he didn't want to be with him? Dib thought...Dib thought he and Zim could have something...Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

Mind blank, Dib abruptly kicked backwards with all his might and his boot heel directly hit Shiv's shin. The pastel Irken squealed painfully before stumbling back, her whip slackening. Ignoring how his body throbbed and his cracked ribs sang with protest, Dib stood and turned around, wanting nothing but blood. Shiv was righting herself from where Dib's kick had landed, a bruise already forming on her pale pastel skin where Dib's boot had torn clean through her sheer leggings. She saw Dib approaching and knelt into a defensive position but Dib shouldered his way past her defenses, landing a solid right hook to Shiv's cheek. She gave a soft gasp and stumbled, hitting the wall before leaning against it for support. Using his size to his advantage, Dib snatched Shiv's lithe little arm and slung her clear across the hold.

Shiv attempted to right herself in midair but still crashed into a rack of shelves, toppling them over. Glass and metal was scattered across her back and covered the floor, shimmering dangerously. As Shiv rolled over onto all fours and was attempting to stand Dib stalked over and grabbed Shiv's unusually long antennae, wrenching her up from the floor. She squealed loudly, face beginning to turn pink as Dib manhandled her against a wall. Somewhere in the back of Dib's rage addled mind he knew that Irken antennae were extremely sensitive but he wasn't in a state to care.

Panting, with pale purple tears in the corners of her eyes, Shiv delivered a devastating kick to Dib's legs, causing him to release her, hissing in pain as one of his knees buckled. Shiv gasped out a pained moan and fell back down to her hands and knees.

“Y-yes, yes, that's it,” she gasped out gleefully, shakily standing as she pulled out her whip. She delivered a swift kick to Dib's jaw, causing a new rush of blood to flood Dib's mouth. He heard Shiv unwinding her whip, but Dib wasn't about to let her immobilize him again. He quickly batted her wrist to the side and wrapped his much larger hand around her slender throat, feeling the warm flesh convulse beneath his palm. Shiv gasped and clawed at Dib's wrists as he slammed her smaller form against the wall and tightened his grip. Her feet were clear off the floor, as Dib was more than a foot taller than Shiv.

“Y-yes,” she choked out, voice soft and ragged, her pale pink eyes lidded and brimming with tears. Shiv wrapped her legs around him once again and began squeezing, Dib's already fractured ribs feeling like they were on fire. His jaw had to be swollen and bruised and at least one of his legs had to be fractured in one place. However, Dib couldn't give less of a damn at the moment. 

“L-lets see...who can...last the longest,” Shiv gasped out as her hands wrapped around Dib's wrist, holding his hand against her throat while her legs threatened to snap him in two. She attempted to reach out and grasp Dib's neck but her arm wasn't long enough, so she settled on gripping one of his biceps. Dib heard more than felt her long nails tearing into his sleeve. Dib's steel grey eyes hardened and he gasped out a choking breath as his chest was constricted by her powerful legs. Squeezing as tight as he could, Dib could feel Shiv swallow beneath his palm as she gasped for breath. Both of their faces were turning colors from lack of air and Dib was afraid he was about to faint, or even have one of his rubs puncture a lung.

“What in Irk's name are you two doing?!”

Shiv and Dib both whipped their heads over to the door where Skoodge stood in disbelief. With Dib pressing her against a wall and with Shiv's legs wrapped around his middle while she clung to him, Dib could understand why Skoodge might get the wrong idea as to what was happening.

“Ha-having fun,” Shiv choked out, still managing to smile while tears streaked down her flushed cheeks.

“Do you know about Tak?!” Skoodge cried out, incredulous. Dib's mind cleared. Oh. Oh yeah. Maybe...maybe he should have lead with that. Oh fuck.

“What?” Shiv asked, confused, her pleasured expression slipping away.

“She's, oh my Irk, let go of each other!” Skoodge shouted. Blinking, Dib released Shiv's throat and she in turn unwrapped her legs from around him. The two took a step back, both breathing heavily.Dib ended up sinking to his knees while Shiv braced one hand on the wall for support. Dib's pants and shirt had several tears where Shiv's heel had cut through the fabric and he was sure his face as well as his torso were heavily bruised. In turn, Shiv had a pale purple bruise on her face and split on her lip. Her throat had a perfect impression of Dib's hand in a blackish blue bruise and her leggings and shirt were both torn. They looked a mess.

“How about we discuss this in the medbay, hmm?” Skoodge suggested, sounding exhausted. Shiv nodded silently, brushing herself off and exciting the room, as if she already knew where to go. As her heels clicked away Skoodge turned to Dib and threw his arms up.

“What were you thinking?! She could have killed you!” Skoodge hissed, covering his face with his hands, exasperated. Blushing, Dib brushed some blood off of his face.

“Hey, I had it handled, I could have taken her,” he argued, ignoring how painful it felt to breathe. Skoodge snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Please, I bet she didn't even use her Pak legs against you,” he retorted. Dib had an argument ready but it died in his throat. God...damn it Skoodge.

  
  


The two walked to the medbay where they found Shiv sitting on a table, looking unusually concerned. Her small cuts were already beginning to heal but the bruise in the shape of Dib's palm remained wrapped around her throat. Dib felt an odd sense of pride at seeing the mar on her neck.

“You said something about Tak. Elaborate. Now, “ Shiv demanded, her soft voice uncharacteristically hard. Dib sat on one of the cot's and allowed that machine to begin mending him, a strange but warm light engulfing his body. Skoodge nodded and gave Shiv a slight bow, as if he knew they needed to placate her.

“Tak was aiding this human and Zim but as of a few cycles ago she has gone missing. We believe she was found out by the Empire and they are...holding her,” Skoodge informed her. Shiv's pale eyes narrowed at that, her usual controlling demeanor slipping away for a moment.

“That would be considered treason...perhaps even high treason...” Shiv murmured, mostly to herself it seemed.

“Well, yes,” Skoodge agreed, wincing a bit a the thought. Dib felt the need to but in.

“Listen,” he began, shakily rising from the cot to stand in front of Shiv. “Whatever Zim is doing or has done, I know he needs to get off that ship. Tak too. They are both being punished for having emotions and bonds, and that isn't right!” Dib stated heatedly, Shiv's eyes hardening at his declaration.

“Do not profess to know what is best for our people. We have lived this way for generations longer than your solar system has been born,” Shiv hissed lowly, clearly still protective of the Irkens.

“I know but...don't you wish you could do what you wanted? Feel how you wanted and not be punished? Don't you wish you were free?” Dib pleaded, hard steel eyes meeting her soft pink. After a tense moment of contemplation, Shiv sighed and dropped her head.

“Fine...I will help you rescue Tak and...Zim, I guess,” Shiv sighed, standing from the table to brush off her skirt. “But only if you agree to spar with me when I wish,” Shiv smiled, eyeing Dib from head to toe. Skoodge gave Dib a hard look, causing Dib to sigh deeply.

“Fine...” Dib grumbled, feeling his face heat up.

“Excellent! I shall draw up a plan,” Skoodge said happily, clapping his hands together as he exited the room. Before Dib could follow he felt Shiv grab his wrist. It wasn't a tight grasp, not confrontative, but it was stern.

“We may be allies for now but you must know,” Shiv began, her soft voice hard and pale eyes steely, “if you attempt to harm My Tallest...I will kill you.”

  
  


*

  
  


Zim sat on his bed, Gir on his lap, brainstorming plans. He was in the middle of devising a type off radar when a knock at his door drew him from his thoughts. Zim didn't even need to check who it was, he could sense them.

“_Come in,_” he called softly, whole body tingling. Through the door waltzed Red, his deep ruby eyes completely captivating Zim. It was times like this when he questioned whether he wanted to escape at all.

“_I believe it is time to move you to a different suite,” _Red stated, his smooth voice washing over Zim, muddling his thoughts.

“_Where to, My Tallest?” _Zim murmured, the words slipping off his tongue naturally.

“_My chambers,” _Red replied darkly, his lidded red eyes locked on Zim's.

“_So, so soon?” _Zim stuttered, beginning to panic. If he was with Red all the time it would make it near impossible for him to formulate an escape plan.

“_Yes,” _Red replied sternly, _“I wish to have you inaugurated.” _A chill went through Zim's body. Inaugurated? That was not what Zim had expected. This would...this would bind Zim to Red, no questions asked. He would never be allowed to leave. Mind racing, Zim began thinking of a way to buy time.

“_Oh...I would love to go to your suite, My Tallest,” _Zim began, setting Gir on the floor as he strategically leaned back against the bed. Arching his back just the slightest bit and flexing his inner thighs just a tad. Yes, it was true that Zim's very being was linked to Red and yearned for him...but it went both ways.

Red's gaze became heavy as looked down at Zim, deep crimson eyes darkening.

“_But why don't you spend the night here?” _Zim suggested softly, eyes drifting down Red's body. He had to distract him, had to buy some time to think of what to do. Plus...spending the night with Red wasn't exactly difficult.

So Zim found himself down on his knees, nestled between Red's bare thighs as Red sat back on the bed, hand gently caressing one of Red's antenna.

“_I can tell there is something you aren't telling me,” _Red murdered as Zim ran a hand over Red's clothed erection, hard and pulsing beneath his palm.

“_I'm not sure what it is you mean,” _Zim replied snidely, giving Red a firm squeeze. Red hissed appreciatively and gave a small thrust of his hips.

“_Keep playing like that and I'll-” _but his sentence was cut short as a small communicator on Red's temple began to blink. Red sat up abruptly, eyes narrowed as he listened intently to whatever the communicator was relaying to him. Zim's antennae quivered anxiously, even as Red's hand sat atop his head comfortingly. Red sighed then, harsh and tired, before he gently moved Zim to the side.

“_There is an emergency on the main deck and my presence is required,” _Red informed Zim, a hint of bitterness to his voice. Before he could leave Zim wrapped his arms around Red's middle and purred, hoping to offer some comfort.

It seemed to work, as Red's taught back relaxed just a bit and Red gave a deep rumble in return.

“_Wait for me in my chambers...I'll reward you for your good behavior,” _Red growled lowly, gripping Zim's chin and tilting his face upwards.

“_Yes My Tallest,” _Zim breathed out of instinct, his face flushing. Red hummed appreciatively before turning and swiftly gliding out of the room. Shaking his head, Zim quickly gathered his things before making his way to the door.

“Come, Gir, we have much to do,” Zim muttered, mind an absolute mess. Zim was in such a frantic state that he completely missed the moment when Gir's eyes blinked from purple back to blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never not leave a cliff hanger. 
> 
> So what's up guys! I know that took a little longer than usual but I kinda had to sit down and figure out where the story was going. Worry not, I have it all figured out now. Probably. 
> 
> So what did you think of the chapter? You almost got a sex scene, didn't you? Ha ha, did you forget this is a slow burn?! I live to tease. 
> 
> Lemme know what you thought about this one, I adore reading your comments. Until next time!
> 
> ***PS Who would you like to see get intimate next? I'm just curious.***


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I crawl out of a dark and dreary bog, shambling up to the shore to gently place this chapter down on the bank, only to sink back into the murky depths for time unknown*

Red never did return to his chamber that evening. Zim was curious as to why, but he had other things to attend to. As if Tallest Purple had anticipated Zim's plans, Gir's database had been partially wiped. His memories of Zim were intact but any coordinates or tracking devices that were being monitored were completely erased from Gir's mind. Without Zim's equipment nor Gir's memory, Zim had no way to know how to contact Dib. However, there was a solution.

Deep within the Massive were the Grand Archives, a vast collection of information and knowledge gathered from across the universe. If Gir's data was stored anywhere, it would be there. Setting his jaw, Zim began the long trek to the vast archives.

While it was true that Zim could simply teleport closer to his destination, he preferred to keep his actions as discreet as possible. The archives weren't too terribly far from the royal towers, considering the size of the Massive. Zim could get there in a matter of minutes if he ran.

Ducking past guards and dodging security, Zim made it to the large doors of the Archives. Trying to gulp down his harsh breaths, Zim stepped forwards to the security screen, allowing his face to be scanned. Chest rising heavily, Zim waited impatiently for the ok to enter the Archives. To his astonishment, the doors remained immobile.

“_Apologies, Smallest Zim, you have been barred from entry by class-T, Level 1 security clearance. See Level I to dispute this,” _a metallic voice chimed from within the security monitor. Taking a step back, Zim's harsh breathing only worsened.

“W-what?” Zim panted, brows drawn in confusion. How could he be banned? A Smallest had one of the highest possible security clearances, only beaten out by-

Suddenly it made sense. Had Tallest Purple beaten him to this as well? Zim let a hiss out from between his teeth.

“_Having trouble?”_

The voice caught Zim off guard, distant yet so very familiar. Turning slowly, cautiously, Zim did his best to keep his composer as he laid eyes on the speaker.

A small Irken, Zim's height exactly, stood a short distance away, cloaked in darkness. Stepping out of the shadows of the hallway and into the entry way lights, Zim's hunch was confirmed. A slim and lithe Irken sashayed forwards, their steps sure and confident.

Upon their feet were small heeled shoes, delicate and sleek, made from an extremely rare and near priceless leather. The reptilian beast from whom the leather was carved had beautiful ebony scales that shimmered in iridescent rainbow when struck just right by the light. The shoes more closely resembled an antique doll's heels than traditional Irken boots, with intricate silver metalwork dancing across the footwear and ending in a delicate stiletto.

The Irken's legs were incredibly thin and lithe, clad in thick white cloth from the thigh, down their legs until it disappeared beneath the heels. One would almost think the white fabric was boots, but the heels proved they were in fact a form of tights. The fabric folded over at the largest swell of the Irken's thighs and were held tight by silver garters.

Just an inch or so above the garters was a crisp pleated skirt, snow white and pristine. The clothing the Irken was wearing was, in actuality, a dress, but the way it was styled tricked the eye into thinking it was a several piece garment. A silvery band wrapped itself around the lower hem, giving it an almost ethereal shimmer as the Irken strutted. The skirt was dangerously short, the silver lined pleated ending at the perfect spot as to cover the Irken's underthings, yet still remain tantalizingly revealing.

Slung across the Irken's petite and trim waist was a double banded belt, cyan blue dyed reptilian leather to match their icy eyes. Where the two bands met hung a large violet crystal, polished and carved into the shape of a tear drop.

The fabric of the dress itself was airy, breathy, and in fact so form fitting Zim could clearly make out the divot of the other Irken's naval and the slight curve of their stomach. Just at the base of the Irken's ribs the dress began to taper inwards until it ended at a point, just over the breastbone. This left the Irken's lower pectorals and upper ribs completely exposed, painting a picture that danced along the line of elegance and obscenity.

The fabric that did cover the Irken's chest was just as white and well kept as the rest of the dress, its edges wrapped in the same silvery band as what surrounded the pleated skirt. It wrapped itself across the Irken's breast like a human suit of bathing, strapless and simple. Just where the edges met, directly above the breast bone, was a simple embroidered design, almost like silver butterfly wings. Were the top any thinner, it would be but a large ribbon. Dancing between the Irken's exposed under-breast was a gem, matching in color and shape with the crystal on their belt.

Upon the Irkens neck was a thin silver chain, a tiny violet gem nestled in the center of the metal. Four long chains dripped from this collar to hang across the clavicle, the two ending on each shoulder respectively. So long were the chains that they actually spilled down the Irken's arms, one ending just below the shoulder, the other below the bicep.

Just under the lowest chain began the Irken's gloves, snow white and pleated with silver. An intricate design hugged the glove's outer most edge then tapered away, ending in a single ice blue gem. Down the lithe, thin arms the tight snow fabric flowed, ending in an intricate silver embroidery nestled atop the Irken's hands. More sleeves than gloves, Zim supposed, but he really wasn't too caught up in the semantics.

The Irken had delicate hands, with long, slim fingers banded in all manner of silver rings. Nails painted the same iridescent ice blue as their eyes, it almost seemed like they dipped their hands in arctic pools to get the color. The shades contrasted nicely against the Irken's dark, ashen blue skin.

Just above the chain choker was a coat collar, matching in white, of course. Just barley slung over the apex of the shoulder, was a crisp white cape. It was ironed to perfection and hung starkly against the Irken's back to then end just about the knees. It was bare of embellishment, save for the thin silver band along the hem. Sophisticated and sleek, the cape really polished off the Irken's look.

On their neck, above the chain and the cloak, was a thick black band, made from the same reptilian skin as their heels, and from it hung a silver loop. Eyelids shadowed in a dark, cool silver, and lips shimmering like polished river stones, the Irken clearly had their make-up done daily. Their forehead bore a unique and elegant Irken mark, sheer and white, a mark only one other Irken in the universe was permitted to wear.

That Irken was Zim. Before him stood everything Zim failed to be...Tallest Purple's Smallest.

“_Kei,” _Zim murmured cautiously as the other Irken sashayed over to him primly. Kei's eyes were a pale icy blue, a rare and coveted color. Oddly enough, it reminded Zim of some Urth creatures that were struck with blindness. To offset their light eyes, Kei's skin was several shades darker than Zim's, and a bit less saturated in color, looking almost like an ashen, frozen lake. Light, thick lashes fanned over Kei's shadowed eyes, his face sharp and elegant, off set by the feminine curves of his body and his lips.

Truly, he was quite beautiful.

“_Zim,” _he replied in his soft, melodic voice as he drew nearer still. Zim and Kei's relationship had always been...tense. Kei was the perfect embodiment of everything a Smallest should be. He was petite, quiet, obedient, and everything Zim was not. The two had never fought, per say, but there was always a tension between the two. An unspoken acknowledgement that, although they were bred for the same purpose, they were on opposite ends of a spectrum.

“_It has been so long since I've seen you,” _Kei murmured, interrupting Zim's thoughts. To Zim's surprise, Kei stood before Zim and dipped his head slightly in greeting. After swallowing down his astonishment, Zim bowed his head down as well until it gently rested against Kei's. Kei hummed in response, confusing Zim more. Had Kei...actually missed him? Surely not.

After a moment the two stepped apart, silently appraising each other. Zim couldn't help but feel somewhat self conscious in the presence of such an attractive Irken...an Irken he should be more like.

“_So, what are you doing here?” _Kei asked, his voice light and non accusatory. Zim didn't buy that for a second. What were the odds that Kei, Tallest Purple's Smallest, just happened to be at the location Zim was? Something wasn't right.

“_Gir appears to be missing some of his memories since he was repaired,” _Zim revealed cautiously, deciding that giving half truths was the safer option than flat out lying. Kei's face remained placid, calm and serene.

“_Ah, I see. Coming to get his data back?” _Kei replied smoothly, hands clasped in front of him, non confrontational. Zim simply gave a curt nod, placing a hand on his hip while he glanced to the door.

“_Yes, I'm sure they are important to you,” _Kei continued coolly, and Zim could't be more on edge. Kei had never been easy to get a read on, unlike Zim who always spoke his mind. Now was no exception.

“_Though, I must say, I thought you would be making preparations for the upcoming ceremony,” _Kei commented off handedly, beginning to walk around the small entryway casually. His heel clicks seemed especially loud in the silence, cracking against Zim's psyche like an icepick to a glacier.

“_...What ceremony?” _Zim asked cautiously, intensely aware of the fact that he was very well being played. A shadow passed over Kei's face then, his eyes growing dark and stormy. Or perhaps it was a trick of the light, the look came and went so quickly Zim began to doubt if he had even seen it at all.

“_'What ceremony?', oh come on, Zim,” _Kei chuckled, brining a perfectly manicured hand to cover his mouth while he lot out a breathy laugh, _“your ceremony, of course.” _When Zim didn't make any move of acknowledgement, Kei sighed and shook his head slightly, friendly smile still in place.

“_Your Coronation. The ball will be in a few days. It was announced this morning,” _Kei stated, his icy eyes locked on Zim's. When he began his sentence Kei's voice had been its usual cadence but as he continued it became tight, like he was having to force the words up his throat and through his teeth. Zim resisted the urge to grimace.

It was no secret how Kei felt about Tallest Purple. Kei waited on Purple hand and foot, obeyed every order, never spoke out of turn, was as perfect as a Smallest could be. Yet Purple treated him with little regard, certainly didn't dote on him. Usually he sent Kei to go perform secretarial work instead of having him stay by his side. In the elite barracks you may hear whispers that Tallest Purple was simply incapable of having romantic interests, and Zim wasn't sure he disbelieved that. How could you have a Smallest like Kei and not bed him?

Kei, though, acted like it didn't bother him. Perhaps it truly didn't and he was satisfied just serving. He performed his duties without pause, and was the subject of many Irken's wet dreams, although Kei would never indulge them. It was a perplexing situation.

And now, here was Zim, a banished defect turned traitor, scheduled to be coronated by Tallest Red, the most decorated Emperor in Irken history. It had to burn. Swallowing thickly, Zim tried to chose his words carefully.

“_I was...unaware. The past few days have been quite eventful for me, I'm still adjusting,” _Zim forced out, attempting to seem friendly and at ease.

“_Yes,” _Kei began, smile tight, _“I heard your evenings have been kept thoroughly occupied.” _

Ouch, okay. Zim barely held back a wince. He decided to deflect.

“_Truth be told, I am not even sure what I am to do for this...I have never...”_

Never what? Studied royal protocols, learned proper mannerisms, behaved in a way the represented his title? Zim felt himself begin to become anxious.

“_Ah, no worries,” _Kei purred, surprising Zim. _“You have been away for a long while. Shall I help you prepare?” _Kei offered, gesturing with one hand down the corridor, away from the archives.

“_Unless, of course, regaining your SIR unit's memories takes precedent over your Coronation...”_ Kei murmured quietly, his bright eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if he had somehow read Zim's mind. Damn it all.

“_...No. Of course not. I would be honored to receive your help,” _Zim finally ground out, choking down his astonishment when Kei grasped his hand and began to lead Zim away. It seemed Dib was going to have to wait a while longer, still.

*

“Have you seen Zim yet?”

“Stop barking in my ear,” Shiv hissed, grimacing as she adjusted her communicator. The human had became infuriatingly chatty ever since she returned to the Massive.

“Okay, but this whole mission is to-”

“_My _whole mission,” Shiv interupted, her usually soft voice biting with an unusual edge, “is to locate and free Tak. _Your _mission is a byproduct of that.” The line became quiet and while Shiv stalked down the lower corridors of the Massive, she couldn't help but sigh and roll her eyes.

“Listen, your little friend is a high status member of the Empire,” Shiv began to explain in a hushed tone as she strode down the dark halls, “ I would normally never see someone like him unless I was reporting directly to an Emperor, which currently, I have no reason to do. If you want all of us to come out of this alive you are going to have to be patient,” she finished, her tone commanding, if not chastising. The line remained silent for a while and Shiv began to grow irritated, thinking the human was sulking in the safety of the ship when she heard a sigh on the other end.

“I, I know...I'm sorry,” the human Dib muttered, the deflation in his voice making Shiv's chest constrict in a way she was unfamiliar with. Usually the despair of others pleased her. What was this new feeling?Shiv rubbed her chest uncomfortably.

“It is okay. We will have Tak and Zim within our grasps soon enough,” Shiv declared after a while, her soft voice sure and confident. Somehow, she could sense the human's burst of happiness. It eased the heaviness in her chest and she found herself smiling softly. Alarmed, Shiv scowled and shook her head lightly.

“Thanks, Shiv, you really are-”

“Hush,” Shiv bit out harshly, “you are compromising me. Be silent and let me work.” The human Dib hummed in acknowledgement and the line went dead. As Shiv continued to stalk through the bowels of the Massive, she whined quietly in her throat. Her face was flushed and the corners of her mouth kept trying to upturn. Humans really did have a potent affect. No wonder Zim was the way he was.

Soon enough Shiv arrived at the prison containment offices, a place she had become very familiar with due to bringing in many of her bounties over the years. She approached the front desk and made sure to keep her expression as placid as possible. As she stepped up to the counter the Irken manning the station sat up a little straighter and gave a small bow. It wasn't in proper form, but Shiv was familiar enough with the people here that she allowed small transgressions.

“_Captain Shiv,” _the office clerk greeted, his tone warm. Shiv was quite familiar with this particular Ikren, he manned the front desk quite often. In truth she found him quite cute but had yet been able to drag him away to her bed chambers. She was on the Massive for such short intervals it had simply proven too difficult.

Brushing those thoughts aside, Shiv focused on the task at hand. Freeing Tak.

“_Hello, Xon,” _she greeted, giving a minute dip of her head.

“_Here to turn in a bounty?” _the clerk asked, already pulling up a holographic registry form.

“_No, actually, I am here to see an inmate, Tak of squadron E-3204,” _Shiv replied, keeping her voice even and eyes steely. She clenched her teeth slightly when she saw the grimace pass over Xon's face.

“_Shiv, I'm sorry, but that inmate is held under Class-1 quarantine, I can't allow-”_

“_You can't what?” _Shiv growled, interrupting Xon mid sentence. His big pink eyes glanced up at her, then flinched back to the monitors.

“_I-I'm sorry, C-Captain, it's just that she is a high priority case, I can't-” _he began stuttering, looking clearly distressed as Shiv's eyes continued to darken.

“_Stop. Look at me,” _Shiv commanded coolly. Xon turned his large eyes up to her and Shiv felt a shiver run down her spine. This was a feeling she was familiar with.

Using one finger, her nail long, sharp, and painted black, she tipped his chin upwards as she leaned forwards. His cheeks flushed and his eyes held a look of mild panic. Pressing forwards so her breath gently ghosted across Xon's lips, Shiv lowered her lids and gave a smirk.

“_You know I could take it if I wanted to. Why are you trying to keep this from me? Would you not rather give it up...give it to me?” _Shiv murmured darkly, pressing forwards still until she had one knee on the desk, skirt riding up. Xon blinked and swallowed harshly, hand fumbling with the monitor.

“_I, I want to, Captain, but I'm afraid the Warden-,” _

“_You let me worry about him,” _Shiv reassured him, now gently grasping Xon's face between her claws.

“_Just give me what I need.” _

And that was how Shiv came to be walking down a high security sector with an all access key card. As she passed by cell doors she heard a rustle on the other end of the line.

“Shiv, that was really hot,” she heard a voice smirk and she felt her face grow hot.

“I told you to keep quiet,” Shiv hissed as she picked up her pace. The human's quiet laughter did not ease her hammering heart. However, as she came to a stop at the end of the sector her heart began to hammer for entirely different reasons. Swallowing, she placed her hand against a giant metal slab, barely earning the name of a door. Key card trembling slightly in her other hand, Shiv took a deep breath. Behind this door was Tak.

*

Dib sat with Skoodge within the hold of their newfound ship, both watching a monitor with baited breath. Through some Irken technology that Dib didn't understand, Skoodge was able to channel Shiv's vision directly into the monitor feed. They saw and heard everything she did.

She now stood a what appeared to be a heavily armored door, some Irken letters scrawled on the top in florescent lights that Dib could only guess was Tak's name.

“...What is she waiting for?” Dib asked aloud, his quiet question the only sound on the ship as it drifted through a still part of space. Skoodge sat in silence for a moment, seeming to ponder it himself.

“I don't think it's something you could understand,” he replied after a while. His tone wasn't condescending, just stating a fact. Dib wanted to argue but settled down, resigning himself to simply watching. The two boys looked on as Shiv raised her hand and slowly slid the keycard into the appropriate security slot.

“Cut the feed,” came Shiv's hushed voice, cutting through the quiet. Dib and Skoodge exchanged a confused look, then watched as Shiv stood in front of the now unlocked door, completely still.

“Hey, what's going on, Shiv?” Dib asked , brow furrowing as he anxiously waited to see Tak.

“Cut the feed..._please._” The last word was whispered, barely more than a hushed hum. Dib's frown deepened but before he could inquire further, Skoodge leaned forwards.

“_Done. Reinstate when ready,” _and with a click the monitor went blank. Dib couldn't quell his anxious disappointment, nor irritation.

“Skoodge, what the hell?” Dib spat, throwing his hands up in aggravation. “I need to see Tak, I want to make sure she's okay.” Instead of keeping his usually laid back attitude, Skoodge's eyes cut over to Dib, sharp and hard.

“As I said...I do not think it is something you could understand...human.” Skoodge might as well have slapped him. Dib's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, feeling thoroughly admonished. Sitting back in his seat quietly, Dib felt his cheeks burn with shame. Skoodge didn't continue though, and the two remained silent for a while.

“So...how will we get Tak out if she's labelled as quarantined?” Dib asked, deciding to begin acting like the Captain he should be. At his question Skoodge seemed to relax a bit, face settling and becoming gentler.

“Our system works in a way that is different than your primitive one, I'm sure. The convict is marked on their body, usually the wrist, and the mark injects nano organisms that reside within the body of the inmate. These organisms set off alarms when convicts enter an area outside of their designated cell,” Skoodge began explaining, Dib nodding as he listened.

“Luckily, Shiv has inside information and we knew this beforehand. This allowed me to develop a sort of antidote to the Quarantine injection. Shiv will inject my antidote into Tak and my nanos will enter Tak's body and destroy the Irken nanos,” he finished, glancing over to see if Dib followed. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Dib couldn't help but frown.

“How long would that take? To completely wipe out the quarantine marked nanos?” he slowly asked, his analytical side trying to find the best plan and route to eventually rescue Zim. Skoodge frowned, which only exacerbated Dib's anxiousness.

“That...is the only issue. I say it will take about eighteen human hours to fully run its course,” Skoodge admitted quietly, closing his eyes as he anticipated Dib's reaction.

“Oh, um, okaaay, when were you going to relay that to me?!” Dib bit out sarcastically, running a hand through his hair in irritation.

“I decided to withhold this information from you until after the plan was already set in motion, since you have such a severe lack of patience,” Skoodge replied cooly, cocking a brow at Dib. Scowling, Dib fell back against his seat in a huff.

“Yeah, well, inaction isn't great either you know. Sometimes a quick decision is what you need,” Dib snapped back tartly, eyes locked on the inactive monitor.

“Perhaps in some cases, but not this. If you do not ponder on your actions, I fear your impatience will get someone killed.”

*

“_Mm...no, not that one, something more...vibrant.”_

Zim stood and watched in uncomfortable silence as Kei inspected fabric swaths that were to be used for Zim's Coronation outfit. Kei was surrounded by Irken servants, all significantly taller than him, though he ordered them around without a second thought. It seems he possessed Tallest Purple's haughty and entitled attitude. Kei certainly possessed Purple's love for the finer things, jewelry, clothing, status, all things Zim didn't really care about one way or another.

It seemed to hold its own charm, though, since all the servants hastily obeyed Kei's orders, all while looking moon eyed. Zim watched as Kei nodded his head and directed Irken to and fro and he couldn't help but become more anxious by the minute. What was he playing at? What was the motive behind all this?

Quickly straightening out his grimace, Zim stood a little straighter when Kei began to stride over towards him, arms full of lavish fabrics. Handing them over to an Irken handmaiden, Kei took one of the swaths and held it aloft.

“_Lift your arms up, comate,” _Kei instructed lightly, his pet name catching Zim by surprise. Numbly, he lifted his arms out to the side as asked. Kei reached out and wrapped the fabric around Zim's torso and pulled it tight.

“_Yes, see,” _Kei murmured to the master seamstress Irkens, “_this will work for the main piece, the color is deep enough that it wont clash with the gold. Make it tighter, not too long.” _Zim set his jaw as he listened, feeling like an outsider now more than he had when first been brought onto the Massive. After a few more critiques, the tailors left to go begin work the the garment and Zim was left alone with Kei.

Kei was jotting something down on a tablet and Zim felt questions burn inside him until they bubbled up and spilled over.

“_Kei...what is all this about?”_

Zim's question hung heavy in the air, the tension in the room growing by the second. Kei froze in place, stilling in his writing, until he slowly and deliberately sat down his pen and tablet, back straight and prim. Zim watched as his polite pretense slipped away until nothing was left but raw emotion.

Kei turned sharply, skirt swirling and cape trailing behind him as he leveled his stormy eyes on Zim.

“_We are at war...comate,” _Kei began, his eyes sharp and mouth no longer set in that perpetually polite smile. Zim scowled deeper, and finally let his facade slip as well, truly showing his distrust for the other Smallest.

“_Our duties, as Smallest,” _Kei continued as he slowly began to prowl closer, _“is to instill a sense of loyalty and calm in our people. A well planned Coronation will do just that. These are difficult and frightening times and the lower classes look to us for guidance and comfort.”_ Zim felt himself begin to grow irritated, being lectured like this, like he was some tottering smeetling.

“_Ah, I see,” _Zim retorted, his sarcasm not half as sharp as his facetious smile, “_You are doing all this out of the kindness in your heart, then?” _At his question one of Kei's eyes twitched, and his smooth features hardened into a scowl.

“_I do what I do out of loyalty to the Empire,” _he bit back, tipping his chin upwards as he looked down at Zim through lidded eyes, posture oozing superiority. At that Zim couldn't help but bark out a laugh. What had loyalty ever earned him? Kei looked startled at Zim's reaction, and his face fell back into an even harder scowl.

“_What is it you find so amusing, Zim?” _Kei hissed, his antennae now downturned and agitated. Shaking his head, Zim couldn't help but smile, pained as it was.

“_The irony is what I find so amusing, comate,” _Zim replied mirthlessly, leveling his gaze at the other Smallest. After a beat of tense silence, Kei wiped his face of any emotion until it was his usual mask of polite indifference.

“_Perhaps you should return to your chambers...comate,” _Kei murmured coolly and if Zim didn't know better he would say that it sounded like a threat. Even so, Zim rolled his eyes and made his way to the door all the same. As he was passing through the frame, Kei clearing his throat made Zim pause.

“_Oh, and don't worry about the design of the gown,” _Kei purred, his light eyes sharp and cutting, _“I'm intimately familiar with Tallest Red's tastes.” _Zim felt himself bristle, and bared his fangs on instinct. Kei smirked as Zim snarled and stalked out of the door.

*

Dib snapped out of meditative state when the monitor finally switched back on, the black screen blinking away to Shiv's vision, and it seemed she was pacing around a room.

“We have an issue,” she began, getting directly to the distressing point.

“Oh christ, what is it? Is Tak okay?” Dib questioned anxiously, running two hands through his hair. He and Skoodge watched as the video feed shook, Shiv shaking her head in response.

“No, Tak is well and is recovering in a private cell, the issue is Zim,” she responded briskly, her gaze seemingly leveled at the floor as she paced. Dib felt his stomach drop.

“What's wrong with Zim?” Dib demanded, his voice rough with worry. At that Shiv scoffed.

“Tch, there's nothing _wrong _with him, what's wrong is he's getting himself Coronated,” Shiv spat, shaking her head again, this time in disbelief. Dib was confused. He turned, looking between Skoodge and the monitor respectively.

“W-wait, what's that mean, what's a coronation?” he asked, panicked. Skoodge's face was twisted into a deep frown, his brow furrowed and mouth downturned.

“It is a bonding ceremony and what it mean's is...” Skoodge stated quietly, “we have a vastly shorter timeframe to get Zim off of that ship.” Biting his lip, Dib pulled out his laptop and began going over the specs of their plan.

“Okay, okay, okay, what kind of timeframe are we talking about?” Dib rushed out, shoving his glasses higher up on the ridge of his nose.

“The celebratory ball is in two days, on the night of two moons. The Ceremony the night after,” Shiv replied flatly, and Dib felt his chest constrict painfully. They were going to have to be a lot more brazen in their attack.

“You know what this means, don't you?” Skoodge asked cryptically, more so to Shiv than Dib it seemed.

“Yes,” Shiv replied, finally stilling in her movements, “we are going to have to infiltrate the Ceremonial Ball.”

Dib didn't really understand what that entailed, so he resigned himself to sitting back quietly and letting the two Irken hash out the details. After several minutes of planning Skoodge declared he needed to go draft up a new plan and excused himself, ending the monitor call. So Dib sat in silence, face grim as he went over the mission specs again and again, trying to memorize the layout of the Massive from a blueprint Skoodge procured.

As he was reading he heard a faint noise that drew him out of his state of deep concentration. It sounded like...whispering? Looking around, Dib didn't see anyone, and just as he was going to call out to Skoodge he recognized one of the voices. It was Tak.

Apparently, even though the monitor feed had been cut, somehow the audio was still enabled. So Dib sat and listened, mystified, as Tak and Shiv spoke quietly to each other in their native language. Dib's Irken still wasn't great, but he could pick up occasional words and form phrases between the gentle purrs and soft hums.

_You alright?_

_Awake. Dreams._

_Hurt you?_

_So long it's been..._

_Do you remember?_

_Safe? Home?_

_Foolish, dangerous _

_I missed you_

_Foolish_

_I was always with you_

_Want_

Dib felt his face flush and he suddenly felt ashamed. This wasn't for him to hear. Standing quickly, Dib snapped the monitor shut and briskly excited the hold, heading to his new private room. Blushing still, Dib closed his bedroom door behind him and felt a weight settle heavily on his shoulders. Hearing the two girls speak just made him realize how much he missed his partner. He missed Zim.

Back resting against the door, Dib grimaced when he realized his pants had grown tight. Fucking christ. Letting his head fall back with a thud, Dib breathed deeply through his nose and willed his erection to go away. He needed to concentrate, he needed to think.

He needed Zim.

*

As Zim was stalking back to his room he was intercepted by a messenger Irken, a bit taller and more plump than Zim. The messenger called out to him then recoiled when Zim whirled around, face still contorted into a fearsome scowl.

“_M-my apologies, Smallest, but I have an imperial request,” _the Irken stammered nervously, avoiding eye contact and instead looking at the ground. Zim gave a perplexed quirk of his mouth, but stilled and gave a stiff nod, permitting the messenger to speak. Taking a calming breath, the messenger righted themselves only to sink into a deep bow.

“_Smallest of Red, Almighty Tallest Purple has requested your presence in his private study this evening, before the final hours of nighttime preparations,” _the messenger relayed, his bow at the perfect angle, voice demure. Zim clenched his jaw so hard he heard his teeth grate. He was growing tired of these games. Still, he had his part to play if he wanted to win.

“_...Thank Tallest Purple for his generous request...I shall be there,” _Zim replied after a short silence. The messenger breathed a sigh of relief and deepened their bow.

“_As you wish, My Smallest.” _

With that Zim turned on his heel and continued on his way. Heaving a great sigh, Zim finally entered his suite and all but collapsed against the wall. Closing his eyes, he attempted to sort through all the moving parts of his now upturned life. Even this room, which he has only stayed in for a few nights, would no longer be his come the Coronation. Would Zim live in Red's chambers...permanently?

Flushing, Zim drug a hand down his face. Rooms should be the least of his worries. Pushing himself off the wall, Zim slowly made his way over to the bed when something gave him pause. Approaching cautiously, Zim's eyes narrowed as he took in a large parcel lying atop his bed, wrapped in thick crimson paper. Atop the mysterious package was a letter, hand sealed.

Picking it up delicately, Zim's antennae twitched in intrigue as he turned the envelope over in his hands. His heart picked up speed when he recognized the seal...it was Tallest Red's. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Zim hurriedly ripped the envelope open, tossing the torn paper to the floor as he gripped the letter within it.

The paper was thick and felt expensive, and truly, it was odd that letters were even still used, as antiquated as they were. It must be some sort of Royal custom, something Zim never bothered to learn. The contents of the letter were sparse but they still sent Zim's insides careening on a rollercoaster of emotions.

_Zim_

_Unfortunately these wartime affairs have kept me from you for longer than I would normally allow. After the Coronation this will no longer be an issue, as you will be able to take Command, by my side._

_In the meantime, my Smallest, I had this made for you. I believe it suits someone of your...stature. _

_We won't be apart much longer. I hope you will enjoy my gift...I know you will._

_Tallest Red_

_-V_

Zim's eyes scanned the letter again and again, chuckling when Red mentioned his stature, biting his lip when Red professed that they would be together. Closing his eyes when he read that they would take command...together. This was...this was vastly complicating things. Zim was supposed to be angry, be resentful at Red for abandoning him, banishing him. Yet Zim found himself falling deeper and deeper in...in something with Red. He couldn't resist him.

Giving his head a light shake, Zim gently set the letter aside so he could open the large paper wrapped parcel. Peeling the wrappings away, Zim's eyes widened a bit as he took in its contents. Within there seemed to be a full outfit, a dress, tights, boots, and...cloak?

Glancing down at himself he wondered if wearing a standard uniform was...unbecoming of him now? Then Zim thought of Kei, of how beautiful and well dressed he was, wearing gorgeous hand tailored clothing. He looked like he was in command.

Jaw set in determination now, Zim quickly set about stripping. Throwing the commoner's clothing to the floor, Zim began assembling his new outfit. Grasping the tights, Zim began to tug them over his legs and couldn't help but notice that, although the black fabric was sheer, the cloth felt thick and expensive. It clung to his thighs nicely, but Zim couldn't help but think back to Kei, of how thin and taught his legs were in comparison to Zim's...did Red prefer that to Zim?

Scowling, Zim rolled his eyes and pulled the tights up until they snapped around his hips, his simple black underthings still visible beneath he shear ebony fabric. Next, the dress. Instead of Zim's usual fuchsia, the garment was midnight black as well. As he pulled it over his shoulders Zim wondered of Red chose this color to differentiate him from the commoners or...if it was to make him match with Kei. Damn him, Kei just wouldn't leave his mind.

Pulling the gown down, Zim was surprised by how short it was, the fabric ending around his upper thighs. The dress was tight and form fitting, simple in construction and color. It had a high collar that hugged Zim's neck, and from his neck outwards the sleeves were the same sheer black as his tights. It almost gave the illusion of being a sleeveless sweater dress, but the sheer details added an element of sophistication and perhaps even eroticism. The sleeves ended right over Zim's knuckles, a small opening sewn in for him to slip his thumb through. A nice alternative to gloves, he thought.

To, once again, compare to the other Smallest, this dress was much more reserved, letting Zim's silhouette do the proverbial talking rather than intricate embroidery and jewels, or even swaths of revealed skin. It clung to Zim's fuller figure like a second skin and Zim couldn't help but run his hands down his sides, appreciating himself in the mirror. Smirking to himself, Zim grabbed the boots. His undying confidence was beginning to return to him.

Unlike his former pair, these boots didn't hug his thighs tightly, rather they flared out at the swell of his thighs then tapered inwards to cling to the rest of his leg like latex. The boots were so incredibly high that they almost reached the hem of his very short dress. Mat black with fuchsia soles, and a small splash of fuchsia on the inner thigh, Zim adored them.

Finally, there was a long black cape. Zim picked it up carefully and felt the weight of the heavy fabric in his hands. As he turned it over, a sparkle made him pause. Hidden within the dark ebony folds was a white golden collar...with a sharp crimson jewel incrusted in the center.

Zim felt his heart flip. Hurriedly, Zim threw the cloak around his back and snapped the golden collar into place on his slim neck, whirling around to gaze at himself in the mirror. The heavy cape fell down to about his knees and it made him look...authoritative. Taking in a breath, Zim straightened his back and stood tall, well, tall for him, and really looked at himself.

Red's gift had given Zim a new air of confidence and now he really looked like an Irken who should be in charge. The black was intimidating but the cut was still attractive enough for him to look like arm candy, as humans might say. Suddenly Zim didn't feel like such an outsider. But now he had an entirely different problem.

Zim...wasn't sure he wanted to leave anymore. Yet, he didn't want to stay either? What was wrong with him... Sitting down heavily on the bed, Zim absentmindedly ran his fingertips over the red gem on his throat as he sat in contemplation. Why was he suddenly so conflicted? He missed Dib...

Then something Dib had once told him struck Zim like a bolt. The two of them had been at Zim's house on Urth, sometime just before Zim found out that his mission was a fabricated lie. Dib had been playing on a video game console while complaining about procrastinating on an english project. This had confused Zim.

Zim asked Dib why he did not want to work on this project because he loved reading and loved writing. It did not make sense to Zim.

Dib had given a little huff of laughter, and Zim could so vividly remember watching as Dib's new lip piercings had shimmered in the blue light of the tv. Snake bites, Dib had said they were. Zim liked them...But back to the memory at hand, Dib had chuckled and revealed that yes, he enjoyed doing those things, but only when he wanted to.

“I mean, yeah, I like reading and all that but when you're forced to do something...it just stops being fun, you know? Even if you really like something, hell, even love it, if it's forced on you...well, nobody likes that...or maybe that's just me,” he had murmured softly, a self deprecating smile on his lips. At the time Zim had not understood. If you liked something then that was that.

Now though...now Zim believed he understood. His time on Urth had changed many things about him, and his exposure to humans even more so. Zim could no longer happily be commanded and take orders while smiling. Now he wanted to be in control of his own actions, chart the course of his life, not accept what had been decided for him. Zim desired the ability to choose.

This must be why he felt so conflicted...this was the life he desired, but he wanted to choose it for himself. The ability to leave the Massive when he wanted, the security not to be monitored. To see Dib. Red was going to have to come to terms with this...Zim was going to have to come to terms with this too.

That, however, was a conversation for another time. Now...Zim had an appointment to make. Imbued with a new flare of authority, Zim didn't walk through the halls of the Massive, he strode. Dark cape flowing behind him, pink soled boots planting down on the polished floors, chin tipped up, now he felt right. He was the Great Zim, after all.

Eyes hard, jaw set, Zim made his way to Tallest Purple's private suite. Whereas guards may have stopped him before, asked for credentials, now they parted before him. Seems a nice change in appearance really could make a difference. Taking a steadying breath, Zim pushed the door aside and stepped in.

On edge and on alert, Zim softly closed the door behind him and took a few tentative steps into the foyer. A sound from behind him made Zim jump, and he turned, startled. To his utter astonishment, in waltzed Tallest Purple in the most casual clothing Zim had ever seen him in.

A long silken robe, made from a dark saturated violet that reminded Zim of the swirling colors of deep space was loosely tied around Purple's trim waist. The sleeves of the robe were loose and elongated, looking akin to something that the people of Urth's Asia might wear. The deep plum silk was embroidered with small silvery designs, intricate and delicate constellation like patterns scattered across the fabric. Other than that Purple was...bare.

No gauntlets on his wrists, nor shoes on his feet. In fact...Purple was...walking? The anti-gravitational device that all Tallest wore was no longer strapped to his waist and he, instead, was gliding across the floor of his own accord. The myriad of necklaces and chains were absent from Purple's neck and antennae, revealing his smooth and flawless verdant skin. The only piece of jewelry Zim could see was a ring on his right hand, set with a large maroon stone. Zim must have been staring because Purple quirked a brow at him then scoffed.

“_Did you think I slept in full armor and dress? Wipe that gawking look off your face,” _Purple huffed, striding into the room with a dismissive roll of his eyes. Zim blinked then huffed, face flushing a bit at Purple's admonishment. Zim continued to stand somewhat awkwardly in the foyer as Purple glided past him, seemingly headed towards a large set of expensive cabinetry.

“_I imagine you are wondering why I asked you here tonight,” _Purple called passively as he opened the cabinets, revealing bottle upon bottles of liquor, mostly wines and cordials. Zim blinked a couple times, then cleared his throat, taking a few tentative steps further into the room.

“_Yes, I was curious, but I'm guessing it has something to do with my Coronation?”_ Zim replied, grateful for Red's gifts, they grounded him and helped Zim to feel in control, as false as that feeling may be. Zim believed he had made a pretty innocuous statement, so he was a bit startled when, upon mention of the Coronation, Purple's whole body gave a bit of a start, his shoulders twitching as his hand reached out to grasp a bottle. His long nails clinked against the glass neck before he clenched his fist, gripping the bottle tightly.

Purple twirled around, theatrical as always, and, glass in hand, made his way over to a lavish side table, upon which were several silver goblets.

“_Yes...your Coronation...there is so much to discuss, so let's” _Purple replied, his voice not quite friendly, but not his usual condescending either. Zim watched, wide eyed, as Purple uncorked the bottle and poured the dark contents into two twin goblets, then held them aloft, one in each hand. When Zim made no move to come nearer, Purple huffed and extended a hand, offering Zim a glass. Zim felt his throat become dry.

Mindful of how he moved, Zim did his best to confidently stride over to Purple until he stood just before him. Even without the aid of the anti-gravitational belt, Purple towered over Zim, with the Smaller only reaching about Purple's mid torso. Looking down at Zim with unreadable violet eyes, Purple lowered his arm until the goblet was directly in front of Zim's face, so close he could smell the cloying fragrance of fermented fruits. Swallowing thickly, Zim reached out and took the cup.

“_My Thanks, Tallest,” _Zim murmured after a moment, remembering his manners. Purple simply closed his eyes and gave a small nod, lifting his own glass to his lips. Zim brought the goblet up and took a long sip.

Immediately Zim winced, whole face screwing up, swallowing harshly as he felt the liquid burn down his throat. This was much more potent than the last Irken wine he had consumed. Purple watched him from above, smirking into the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

“_My apologies, Smallest,” _Purple simpered, clearly trying not to huff out a laugh, “_I prefer my drinks strong.” _Zim shook his head adamantly, already feeling his cheeks heat from the pungent alcohol.

“_No, I simply have not had such a drink in a long while,” _Zim retorted proudly, “_I can handle this.” _To prove his point, Zim took another long pull of the whine, focusing every fiber of his being not to grimace as the liquid burned its way down. His brow still furrowed, but he managed to maintain his composer this time. Purple watched with a bemused smirk, and quirked a brow when Zim managed to swallow the wine down. Giving a small shake of his head, Purple gave a humorous snort and turned, beckoning Zim to follow.

“_Come, I'm not conversing with you in the entry way,” _he called over his shoulder as he strode towards a doorway and down a hallway. Blinking, Zim quickly rushed over to catch up to Purple, trailing behind him dutifully. Looking about him, Zim was astonished at just how large the Tallest's private suites were. They were almost mansion like, with rooms abound, high ceilings, and expensive finery everywhere you looked. It made sense, he supposed. They were essentially the most powerful beings in all of space. It was certainly a change in pace from Zim's time on the run.

Eventually the two came to what seemed to be a large parlor, one where you may entertain a few guests in a more intimate setting. There was a large and lavish wrap around couch along one wall, a few glass wine cabinets that stretched from floor to ceiling lined another wall. Thick, exotic carpets covered the floor, with matching curtains hanging along certain panels of the wall. A sizable built in bookcase lined another wall still, with large tomes tightly shelved within each panel. Sconces were embedded in the panelling near the ceiling, and they casted the room in a dim, intimate glow.

Zim stepped into the huge room and looked around, somewhat awed, and didn't really think about the sound of the door clicking shut. Purple sashayed out from behind Zim and headed towards the large dark sofa, his silken robe flowing behind him, a slip of his bare leg flashing for an instant. Falling backwards onto a long cushion, Purple dramatically sat back and situated himself, half lying down and half sitting up, propped up on one elbow. Zim took the hint and made his way over, taking careful measures not to look at Purple's exposed skin as his silken robed slipped away from his crossed legs.

Quirking a brow as he took another elegant sip, Purple gestured towards Zim. “_That's quite the outfit...and new, by the looks of it,” _he commented off handedly as Zim perched himself on the sofa, a few cushions away. Zim nodded and took another sip of the wine, a bit more accustomed to the stronger alcohol now.

“_Yes, it was a gift from Red, I received it a short while before our meeting time,” _he replied smoothly, going in for another sip. The taste was absolutely divine, Zim could see why Purple favored it. Even while focusing on his drink, he caught the slight twitch that went through Purple at the mention of his outfit's origins.

“_I see...” _Purple muttered into his glass, swirling the contents inside, dark eyes clouded with secrets. “_How thoughtful.” _Zim only nodded, not sure what else to say. A beat of silence passed and Purple sighed and gave Zim a questioning look.

“_I know the sofa is large, Smallest, but did you really have to sit so far away? I feel like I'm speaking to a servant,” _Purple huffed, looking slightly irritated. Startled, Zim looked around then cautiously slid a few cushions closer, then peeked over to gauge Purple's reaction. Still a scowl, okay. Zim moved closer still until only a single cushion separated the two.

At that Purple looked pleased, or as pleased as Zim had ever seen him look, so he decided this distance must be acceptable. Still, being so close to Purple and being under such intense scrutiny made Zim feel on edge. He brought the goblet to his lips again, this time taking a sizable gulp. Purple watched him from the corner of his eye, swirling his goblet still. Purple did not take another drink when Zim did.

Zim blinked once, then twice. For a moment his vision blurred but it went away as quickly as it had come. The sofa he was on was made for Tallest Purple, so it was much higher off the ground than Zim was accustomed to. His feet were well off the floor. Zim wanted to recline but if he did his legs would be on the cushions at a weird angle. As Zim pondered this his antennae twitched, sensing a shake of laughter from Purple. Looking over, Purple seemed bemused, quirking an eyebrow at Zim while he smirked.

“_You can put your legs up on the cushions, you know,” _he informed Zim coyly, _“however...you will have to take your boots off.” _Zim blinked then nodded. That made sense, of course Purple wouldn't want boot marks on his furniture, and Zim was beginning to feel warm anyways. But...his boots were hours old at this point...how could they be-

Zim shook his head and began pulling off one of his shoes. Oddly, he had difficulty getting a grasp at first, his vision swimming for an instant. Frowning, he managed to pry off his first boot, and it fell to the floor with a thump. Zim went to reach for the second boot but before he could even begin to struggle with it Purple sighed heavily and gripped Zim's ankle, his long arm reaching him without issue. With one strong tug Zim's boot slipped off and Purple released it, letting it fall to the floor to join its pair.

“_Apologies, Smaller, but I couldn't watch you go through that again,” _Purple huffed haughtily, and Zim nodded, grateful but embarrassed. Feet now clad only in his sheer tights, Zim slid back until he could relax into the cushions. Sighing happily, Zim pulled his legs onto the couch and tucked them under himself, then took a long steadying drink. Zim blinked in surprise as he realized he had tipped the goblet's bottom and it was parallel to the ceiling. He had drunk it all.

Before Zim could comment on this, the lip of a bottle was already tipping into the well of his glass, Purple wordlessly filling the goblet nearly to the brim with more wine. Flushed, Zim murmured his thanks and took another sip. Why did he feel so on edge? And Irk be damned if it wasn't warm in here.

As if reading his thoughts, Purple reached out and swiftly unclasped his cloak from his neck, the golden collar bearing Red's gem falling into Zim's lap with a soft clang. Purple quickly grasped the cape from atop Zim's thighs and sat it behind him so that it was somewhere out of sight.

“_I do not want to see you in this,” _he had all but hissed as he unclasped the collar but before Zim could really react, his face and voice returned to their regular bored cadence. “_It's so warm, just looking at you makes me feel uncomfortable. So overdressed,” _he explained, tucking the cloak away somewhere on a nearby table.

Purple made another comment of Zim's shoes but Zim didn't really hear it. Too proud, or perhaps too embarrassed to admit he hadn't understood Purple, Zim decided to change a subject.

“_I saw Kei today,” _Zim blurted out, having no idea where that had come from. At that Purple made a face that actually wasn't a bored smirk, his brow furrowing into a slight frown.

“_...Saw or spoke to?”_ Purple asked slowly, as enigmatic as ever. Zim took a huge gulp of his wine, licking his lips as he swallowed.

“_Spoke to. He found me while I was running an errand,” _Zim began, words feeling heavy on his tongue, _“then he offered to...to help me prepare for my ceremony.” _Zim decided to omit the tidbit where the two had a short but heated argument. Tallest Purple looked away for a moment and hummed, then took a small sip of his wine. His glass still looked pretty full though...

“_I'm glad you two are getting along,” _Purple offered after a moment, but it didn't really sound genuine. This bothered Zim and with his usual attitude bolstered by the alcohol, not much was holding him back.

“_Do you like Kei?” _Zim questioned loudly, staring at the floor as his cheeks flushed further. Though Zim wasn't looking directly at him, he sensed Purple's surprise.

“_He is my Smallest...he was made for me...of course I like him,” _Purple revealed gradually, his attitude now somewhat guarded. Zim wasn't satisfied. Taking a huge gulp from his chalice, Zim swallowed with a grimace and snapped his head back down to look at his lap.

“_Kei is a good Smallest. Great, even. He is beautiful, why don't you-”_

“_Are you suggesting that I don't enjoy my Smallest because I haven't fucked him?” _Purple cut in, Zim's words dying in his throat at such language coming from Purple. Fucking? Zim had never even thought of Purple doing something so crass, so lewd, and his cheeks burned hotter, with embarrassment or something else entirely, he wasn't sure. Purple made no move to continue the conversation, seeming to want an answer to his question.

“_I'm...I apologize, I do not know...I do not know what I was suggesting,” _Zim stammered out, turning his head to down his glass again. Empty, damn. Zim's thoughts buzzed. Purple's eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn't believe Zim, but didn't press further.

“_I understand...,” _Purple began, popping the cork off of another bottle, then brining it to Zim's chalice. Somewhere in the back of Zim's mind he wondered where that second bottle had come from. _“My relationship with Kei is not what many expect it to be,” _Purple continued, his voice more honest and unguarded than Zim had heard since they were in the Academy together. _“I have my...unique tastes, and they are more reserved than most. I enjoy Kei's company, and he is a good Smallest, I could not ask for a more devoted Irken to serve me,” _Purple murmured as he set the wine bottle down on a side table._“But bedding him is simply not something I desire.” _

Now finished with his exclamation, Purple laid back and readjusted himself on the couch, taking a small sip of his own wine. Zim took a swallow. His head was swimming and he didn't understand anything. Zim went to turn but his goblet tipped slightly, getting a few droplets on his hand. Hissing irritatedly, Zim quickly licked the liquid from his skin then took the chalice to his lips, tipping his head back and emptying the well once again. His intention had been to set the goblet down but Zim ended up throwing it across the couch, unable to really gauge what he was doing. Turning so that he was on all fours, Zim was now directly in Purple's face.

“_Why do you vehemently hate me the way you do?!” _Zim cried out, antennae downturned and voice breathless. Purple seemed genuinely astonished by Zim's question, his deep violet eyes wide and expression slack. Normally Zim would be morbidly ashamed of his outburst, but the wine had him feeling good, feeling brave, and he stared right back at Purple, demanding an answer. Purple blinked a few times then attempted to slide away a bit, create some space, but he was at the end of the sofa, lying on the longest section, and Zim simply crawled closer.

“_For so long I adored you, and you always treated me like this,” _Zim continued, voice cracking as he managed to push the words out of his lips without slurring, “_what have I done? What can I do for you to make you see I don't mean to be the way that I am?” _Zim all but choked out, becoming much more emotional than he intended. Purple seemed to have transitioned from being slack jawed in astonishment to concerned. He was frowning and sat up straight, his robe slipping off one shoulder. Zim was probably irritating him.

“_You adored Vermeil,” _Purple replied lowly, glaring down at Zim with a look so hard and cold Zim almost recoiled. But he held his ground. Sitting up on his knees so that he was eye level with Purple's reclined figure, Zim set his jaw.

“_Thats not true!” _Zim cried out, voice filled with truth and fire. _“I adored the both of you!” _At that, Purple's face slackened once more, then immediately returned to its usual bored expression but...something was off. His eyes held a strong emotion that was at odds with his uninterested facade. Zim wanted to stop, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue, and Zim felt fuzzy, and warm, and good, and terrible.

“_I would be a better Smallest if I could, I don't mean to be defective,” _Zim choked out, throat tight. _“Everything I ever did I did for the Empire, for the both of you...I would change if I knew how,” _he breathed out, biting his lip to keep the tears that had been brimming in his eyes from spilling out.

There was a heavy silence in the room. Zim felt dizzy and breathless, he wanted to run away, the immense shame pervading even through the thick haze of wine. Just as Zim was about to leap up from the couch, he froze. Purple, Mauve, was caressing his cheek. Using his prosthetic thumb, Purple swiped a stray tear away.

“_I...I don't wish for you to change...” _Purple admittedly tightly. To say Zim was confused would be a grievous understatement. Purple continued despite this. _“You are the way you are and that cannot be altered. I feel this way and...I'm sure Red does too.” _At the mention of Red, Purple's voice took on an almost sad tone, like he was revealing a bit of information that pained him. Zim wasn't in the right mind to think through the implications.

Nodding dumbly, Zim sat back down on his haunches and became quiet, trying to process what had just transpired. Purple seemed confused as well, perhaps with himself, and he sat back heavily against the cushions. Zim couldn't help but notice one of his shoulders was now bare, his silken robe having slipped off. His shoulder was lean with taught muscle, not quite as large as Red's but still quite pleasing to look at. Zim blinked when he realized he had been staring.

“_I know you're nervous about this ceremony...I think I have some information that may put you at ease, if just a bit,” _Purple murmured lowly after a while, the dim lights of the room reflecting in the deep violet pool of his eyes. Zim perked up immediately, mind still fuzzy and warm. Purple smirked, but quickly smoothed it away.

“_You want to impress Ver on the night of the Coronation, yes?” _Purple began, his lidded eyes betraying nothing. Zim had to focus intently to get his hazy mind to fully recognize what Purple was saying. When the words sank in, Zim blushed furiously and nodded, head swimming just at the thought. Purple smirked, but it didn't look particularly kind.

“_I thought so...you know, what you're wearing will be very important. Tell me, what shall you don under your gown?” _Purple pried, lying back and swirling his glass again. Zim frowned. He hadn't even thought of that...

“_I...I don't have any special under-dressings...what I'm wearing is the only style I own,” _Zim admitted, face burning with the thought of lingerie and the feel of alcohol. Purple nodded thoughtfully, tapping one of his fingers against his chalice.

“_I suppose they might work...but, to be safe, let's have a look. I know Ver best, after all,” _Purple offered, glancing back towards Zim. Hazily, Zim nodded. That made sense, and it was very kind of Purple to offer his assistance. And here Zim thought Purple was planning something.

Zim stood, wobbling on his feet. Luckily, Purple reached out and grasped Zim's waist, keeping him upright. Zim swallowed breathily and slurred out his thanks, Purple just nodding tightly in response, fingers pressed into the soft flesh of Zim's hips. As soon as he felt stable, Zim crossed his arms and gripped the hem of his dress, then began tugging it over his head, having to wiggle and shimmy out of the tight fabric. When he finally managed to pull free, tossing the garment on the couch, Zim blinked blearily and gazed at Purple. Zim swallowed, as the look in Purple's eyes was so dark and intense it made his heart jump.

“_Good. Now, the tights,” _Purple instructed lowly, Zim nodding numbly in response. His head was swimming more than before, and he was grateful for the guidance because if it was up to him, Zim would probably just collapse on the couch. But this was for Red, so Zim gripped his tights and began to push them down.

As Zim attempted to pull the clothing off one of his legs he lost his balance, cantering forwards. Reaching out, Zim gripped Purple's bare shoulders, the skin hot and smooth beneath his palms. Zim heard Purple swallow.

“_Need help, little one?” _Purple whispered huskily, his breath fanning against Zim's bare collar. Truthfully, Zim didn't trust his body to hold him upright so he just mutely nodded, mind too hazy to form a coherent response. So Zim tightened his grip on Purple's shoulders while Purple released his hips, moving his larger hands downwards to grasp the tights instead. Zim focused on his breathing and on not wobbling as Purple slowly, methodically peeled the tight sheer cloth down and away from Zim's legs.

“_Step out of them,” _Purple commanded lowly, and Zim obeyed without hesitation, running on instinct more than thought at this point. Lifting his feet one by one, he was free of the tights and clad only in his simple black underthings. Purple returned his hands to Zim's hips, and the smaller was grateful, for he felt his balance become more unstable as time passed. Leaning back, Purple's heavy gaze scoured up and down Zim's body, inspecting him, presumably in Red's place.

“_Turn,” _he instructed softly, and Zim did with Purple's aid, Zim's cheeks flushed and eyelids heavy as Purple inspected his backside. Again, he heard Purple swallow.

“_These are nice enough,” _Purple commented tightly, _“but I do not think they are befitting for a Coronation. Sit down and stay, I have something for you.” _With that Purple stood and placed Zim down on the couch more than Zim actually sat of his own accord. Zim focused on sitting up straight and not falling over as Purple briskly walked away. Truly, Zim couldn't tell how much time had passed before Purple's return but he was grateful when he did. Zim was beginning to fear he may pass out.

Kneeling down in front of Zim, which was a huge break in protocol, Purple offered Zim a small ornate box. Blinking, Zim forced himself into a straight, sitting position, wobbling just a bit before he reached out and took the minute chest, opening it cautiously.

Inside were several small folded cloths, all pressed into squares that would fit in the palm of Zim's hand. Tentatively, Zim pulled out one of the small parcels and let it unfold, focusing as hard as he could through the haze. As he held the tiny cloth aloft it dawned on him that they were under garments. Silken and beautiful, the cloth had intricate lace patterns as well as crisscrossing straps over a keyhole on the backside. What was really interesting though, was that they were almost the exact shade color as Zim's eyes. No, upon closer inspection they weren't almost the same color...they were the same color. Exactly.

“_Th-thank you, Tallest, I do not know what to say,” _Zim murmured hazily, running his thumbs over the cool, soft fabric. It was so impressive to Zim that Purple managed to find so many garments with Zim's exact eye color...Purple must have a really good memory.

“_Let's try one on, make sure they fit,” _Purple suggested in a low and heavy tone, taking his seat on the couch again, helping Zim to stand. Zim nodded and stood so that he was facing Purple. That made sense, of course he should try them on, yeah, that was fine. However, Zim was becoming increasingly more drowsy, and he may have mumbled something to that effect to Purple because before he knew it Purple had pulled Zim down onto the couch. Zim lied back, sighing in contentment as he sank into the plush cushions. His eyes blinked open he he felt the cushions dip, and he stared, wide eyed as Purple leaned over him, large hands gripping Zim's sides.

“_Insubordinate,” _Purple muttered but it sounded almost fond. Zim watched in shock as Purple gripped his black underthings and slowly, ever so slowly pulled them down. Zim felt his face erupt in a furious blush when his small erection bounced up and gave a subsequent twitch when freed from the garment. Purple hummed, deep and low in his throat, and Zim's head spun. He really wasn't sure what was happening. Before he knew it, Purple had lifted on of his legs and pulled the small black underwear from Zim's body, tossing them carelessness to the floor.

Zim was positive he was intoxicated now because he thought he heard Purple mutter that Zim was beautiful. The alcohol was really messing with Zim's head. Zim was completely naked now, and a shiver rippled throughout his body. Purple rubbed his outer thighs comfortingly and Zim couldn't help but purr softly in response, closing his eyes in sleepy bliss. Purple's hands froze, then, wordlessly, he slipped the fuchsia panties onto Zim's legs. Gently sliding his large hand under the small of Zim's back, Purple lifted Zim up and slid the garments into place, as Zim was small enough to be handle with but one hand.

Once the panties were in place, Zim rubbed his thighs together, trying to get a feel for them when something made him pause.

“_They...they don't,” _Zim slurred, breathless from trying to speak coherently, _“They don't have a crotch...” _Zim looked up at Purple expectantly but Purple just quirked a brow, like he didn't understand what the issue was. Zim swallowed and looked away, feeling terribly warm, like he was floating in bathwater.

“_I'll...I'll drip,” _Zim managed to whisper, feeling his face flare at the admission. Purple's grip tightened on Zim's hips.

“_That's the point, Smallest,” _Purple cooed, voice lower than Zim had ever heard it.

Now Zim was slipping, and fast. Everything was warm and soft and his eyes were heavy. Purple began to pull away and Zim gave a chirp of displeasure, too drunk to speak. Zim reached out and grasped the opening of Purple's now loosely tied robe, pulling it apart even further. Purple's large chest was smooth with muscle and heaving. Zim tried to pull him down, he wanted Purple here with him. However, Purple gently gripped Zim's wrists and pried them off of his clothing, pressing Zim's hands down.

“_Not now. Not like this,” _Purple choked out huskily and Zim gave a little chirp of confusion. He just didn't want to be alone, didn't want to sleep by himself in this parlor. What was “this”? But Zim didn't have time to ponder. His eyelids were closing of their own accord and as Zim slipped into drunken unconsciousness he could have sworn he heard Purple promising that the two would see each other again. Soon.

Zim winced and blearily blinked his eyes open, his gaze foggy with sleep. Lifting his head, Zim squinted, trying to clear his vision. He was in his bedroom. Grunting with effort as he sat up, Zim looked around. Nearby, on a loveseat, was Zim's new outfit, neatly folded and complete with boots and cape. Zim pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and groaned softly. What the hell had happened?

Zim remembered going to see Purple, he remembered drinking...a lot, and discussing his Coronation but everything else was too fuzzy to accurately recall. Vaguely, ever so vaguely, Zim felt like he remembered taking his clothes off, but that couldn't be right. He must have dreamt that because Purple would have never wanted Zim to do such a thing. Rubbing his head, Zim pulled the blankets away and swung his legs off of the bed, feet planting softly on the cool floor and slowly padded his way over to the bathroom.

Turning the water on, Zim winced as he bent over, pushing his underthings down only to freeze, wide eyed. They were fuchsia. Zim swallowed, hard. W-where had these come from? Stepping out of them, Zim jumped away as if the silken panties were going to bite him. Screwing his eyes closed, Zim tried desperately tried to remember what happened but he...he just couldn't. Purple must have given them to Zim, but Zim simply didn't remember putting them on. He must have gotten too drunk and Purple had him taken back to his room.

Groaning in embarrassment, Zim stepped into the shower and tried to wash the hazy memories away. After a long while of scouring and scrubbing, Zim felt satisfied and stepped out, roughly toweling himself off. Deciding to go do what he went out yesterday to do, get Gir's memories, Zim dressed in his new clothing and made his way to the door.

Sighing, Zim pressed for the door to open and was preparing to step outside, but no sooner had the door slid open that Zim was shoved back in. Directly outside his door, as if he had been staking it out and waiting for the moment Zim tried to leave, was Kei.

The door slid shut again and Zim stumbled backwards, startled. Kei was on him in a second, grabbing Zim by the fabric of his dress.

“_The fuck do you think you're playing at?!” _Kei spat, releasing Zim only to rear back and slap Zim across the face, hard. Zim recoiled, too stunned to try and dodge the blow. Now, he didn't know what the hell this was about, but he was from Urth, or so he felt. He didn't take getting slapped lying down. Whipping around, Zim wound his arm back and slammed his fist directly into Kei's cheek, sending the other Smallest staggering backwards.

“_The hell are you talking about?!” _Zim shouted, his cheek beginning to sting in objection.  
Using the back of his hand, Kei swiped a droplet of blood from his lips, immediately going for Zim again.

“_You tried to fuck my Tallest!” _Kei screeched, tackling Zim to the floor. Zim hit the ground hard, once again too flabbergasted to defend himself. Him? Have sex with Purple? In what world?!

“_You're insane!” _Zim objected venomously, gripping one of Kei's sensitive antenna and yanking him off. Kei cried out as Zim shoved him off, but simply rolled over and got into a crouched position, ready to launch at Zim again. Hand flying into his skirt, Kei pulled something out, producing it in an open palm.

“_Yeah? Then tell me, the __**fuck**__ is this?!” _Kei roared, holding something small and dark in his hand. Zim felt his face slacken. In Kei's palm were Zim's black underthings. Zim was shellshocked. He had no idea how that could've happened. Apparently Kei wasn't too keen on waiting for an answer so, dropping the garment, he launched himself at Zim with an outraged cry.

“_You're not even on the Massive for a week and you already try to slip into my Tallest's bed?! Are you not satisfied with your own?” _Kei cried out, attempting to claw at Zim's face with his perfectly manicured nails. Zim caught his wrists, though, and his life of constant running and fighting gave him an advantage over Kei. Pushing Kei off of him, Zim pinned Kei to the floor, wrists above his head.

“_Nothing happened, I swear it!” _Zim shouted, looking Kei in his icy eyes as he spoke. Kei's chest was heaving, obviously beyond upset at this point.

“_Why did Tallest Purple call you to his chambers? Tell me!” _Kei cried out, but his voice had transitioned from blind rage to borderline sobbing. Zim swallowed harshly, his throat tight.

“_I don't...I don't know,” _he replied weakly, _“We began discussing the Coronation, but I...I drank too much and I think I passed out, I don't remember much of anything” _Zim continued, his story sounding sketchy to his own ears. Kei stared up at Zim for a moment, his face a mess of pained emotions. Then, before Zim could react, Kei snatched his wrists away and out of Zim's grasp, then gripped Zim by the front of his dress once more. Expecting a blow to the face, Zim let out a shocked gasp when Kei crashed his lips into Zim's.

Suddenly it was a fight of an entirely different kind. Kei was clamoring into Zim's lap, clutching his face, his neck, anything he could get his hands on. Zim placed a steading hand on Kei's slim hips, trying to ease the frenzied movements of the other Smallest. As Zim gasped out a breath, Kei took the opportunity to press his tongue inside Zim's mouth, swirling it around Zim's. Unable to help himself, Zim gave a soft moan at the feeling of the other Smallest's tongue sliding against his.

Kei whined into Zim's mouth and deepened the kiss further, now fully straddling Zim's lap. The two pulled apart briefly, a small string of saliva connecting their lips.

“_It's not fair,” _Kei murmured in a cracked voice against Zim's spit sickened lips. _“I serve him dutifully for years and yet he never...”_ Zim felt a pang of empathy in guilt in his chest at the pained expression that passed over Kei's face. Suddenly frenzied again, Kei began hastily, if not violently stripping off his clothes. Zim watched in wide eyed confusion as Kei tore his own cape away and stood, tossing the cloak to the floor.

Zim stood too, but to back away, too confused and anxious to stop Kei. Kei scowled, face a mixture of enraged and sorrowful, and shoved Zim back onto his own bed.

“_Hey, w-wait, what are you doing, we can't do this, the Tallest-” _Zim began, but Kei straddled him and grabbed Zim's crotch through his clothes.

“_No, I can't wait any longer, and this isn't against protocol. We were made for comforting,” _Kei hissed lowly and Zim barely bit back a moan as Kei fondled him. _“I...I need this...and you owe me,” _Kei growled, crashing his lips into Zim's again. For a moment, Zim considered throwing Kei off of him and getting the hell out. He was strong enough. Then he imagined what it would be like, to be in Kei's place. To have served someone you adored yet never receive the attention you desired, never have your needs fulfilled. What if Red had never bedded Zim...the thought hurt. So maybe...just this once...he would comfort his fellow Smallest.

Taking a deep breath, Zim parted his lips and began kissing Kei in earnest. In response Kei practically whimpered and pressed his body against Zim's. In contrast to his bombastic and controlling personality, Zim preferred to be on the receiving end when it came to intimacy, and he imagined Kei was no different.

It was something Urthlings called being a bottom, as opposed to a top, both terms Dib had been horrified to learn that Zim knew. Going to human skool had its perks; you were always up tp date on the latest human slang. However, it seemed Zim was going to have to take the dominant role this time, which would be a new experience. Hopefully Zim was a fast learner.

Taking from past experiences, Zim gripped Kei's hips and ground his upwards, and if the moan into his mouth was any indication, Zim was doing alright. Apparently it wasn't quick enough, though. Kei shot up and straddled Zim's face, not even bothering to take off his underthings, simply pulling them to the side. They were sheer and white, just as elegant and lewd as the rest of Kei's ensemble. With Kei's skirt flared above his face, small thighs on each side, Kei gripped Zim's head and thrust his dick against Zim's lips.

Mouth parting in surprise, Kei was able to press himself inside Zim's mouth, the two both gasping at the feel. Zim was used to dealing with...larger specimens, so it was incredibly easy for Kei to fully thrust himself into Zim's mouth. Soon enough Kei was gently face fucking Zim, small dick slidind in and out of Zim's mouth while his pussy has begun to drip, sweet juices running down Zim's chin.

Gripping Kei's hips, Zim lifted the slim Irken and moved him forwards so that his pussy was directly above Zim's mouth. Kei cried out when Zim dipped his tongue into the wet folds, lathing over the velvety skin. The taste was vaguely sweet and Zim found he didn't mind lapping at Kei's core, occasionally sucking on his small erection as well. Kei was purring and whimpering constantly, gently rocking against Zim's face. It would be easier for Zim to do his job if Kei had taken off his dress, or at least his panties, but he could work with this.

As he continued to lick and suck, Zim felt his own underthings dampen, and his erection could be seen twitching beneath the fabric of his tight dress. Sensing Zim's distress, Kei abruptly lifted himself up and turned around so that his face was directly above Zim's crotch, and Kei lifted the hem of Zim's dress and shoved his underwear and tights down his thighs. Before Zim could argue Kei had latched his lips around Zim's cock and the words died in Zim's throat. After swallowing a moan, Zim resumed licking and sucking on Kei, since the other Smallest's pussy was currently dripping on his face.

Thus the two began thrusting into each other's mouths, relishing in the wet warmth of the other. Zim's cock twitched when he felt Kei's saliva dribble down his dick down into his pussy. Kei whimpered when Zim pressed a finger into his slick folds, Kei's tight little pussy clamping down like a vice. This continued for a long while, when it seemed Kei was ready to move on to the main event.

Sitting up and turning once again, Kei slid his panties off then straddled Zim's hips, lining himself up with Zim's cock. Zim was a bit bigger than Kei, but no where near as thick or long as Red. Hopefully the other Smallest could still pleasure himself .

Zim sucked in a shaky breath when Kei lined his tip up with the center of his pussy and slowly sank down, Zim's tip gradually penetrating Kei's incredibly hot and tight center. Letting out a soft whimper, Kei let his weight drop and the two moaned in unison when Zim was fully encased in Kei's heat. Swallowing, Kei pressed his hands to Zim's chest and lifted himself up, only to sink back down, small ass slapping against Zim's hips.

After a few warm ups, Kei began fucking himself on Zim's dick in earnest, the blue eyed Irken's small dick bouncing and slapping against their stomachs as Kei rose and fell. Groaning, Zim gripped Kei's hips and forced him up and down at a harsher tempo, raising his own hips to roughly press against Kei's. Kei whimpered and gripped Zim's shirt, yanking him upwards into a sitting position so he could press his lips against Zim's.

The two became entangled in a passionate kiss while they fucked, Zim's room beginning to smell like sweat and sex. Kei gripped Zim's shoulder's while Zim pounded upwards into Kei, hips slapping and Kei's pussy squelching. The two were panting and purring, and they began to resonate as they drew closer to climax.

By this point Zim had lost himself in pleasure and guilt, and it seemed Kei was the same way. No words were spoken, no banter was exchanged, the two were simply running on need and instinct at this point. After they both came, trembling and shaking, they simply resumed in a different position. This continued until the two lost track of time and of themselves.

*

Little known fact about the Massive...almost every square inch was monitored. Now, not everyone had access to every room, there were clearance levels of course. Private rooms required a fairly high ranking to view, for example. Royal chambers, even higher. The highest, in fact. Luckily, this wasn't an issue for an Emperor.

Purple sat back in his office, reclining in his chair and swiveling a goblet of wine, just watching his monitor. All manner of moans and whimpers were coming through his speakers, not to mention a chorus of other lewd noises. Taking a casual sip of wine, Tallest Purple simply sat back and watched, the two small bodies entwined on the bed none the wiser. Purple couldn't help but give a small laugh as he eyed the recording. This tape was going to make for an excellent gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm,hm,hmmm...not the sex scene you expected was it? Hmm, hmm. 
> 
> Critiques always welcome ( ◐ω◐ )
> 
> Happy Belated Valintine's, Bitches


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while, and I would just like to thank you all for continuing to read my story and send me sweet messages. I hope you are all staying safe.
> 
> Please Read my Final Notes for Important Info! 
> 
> Enjoy, my sweets

Dib assembled his shot gun for the fourth time, mostly from muscle memory at this point, as he sat by and listened to his Irken cohorts hash through the details of their infiltration plan. Tak and Shiv remained on the Massive so they could collect whatever scraps of intel were available while Skoodge and Dib stayed on their ship, working from home base, so to speak. Of course, Dib wasn't of much use at this stage in the planning. He knew next to nothing about the Irken mother ship, the Massive, and he actually did know nothing about the coronation ceremony that he and his crew would be crashing...so he sat, and he listened.

The Irkens were, kindly, speaking in English, so he could at least follow along. That being said, with the way the conversation was going he was starting to wish he couldn't. Tak and Shiv were holding up in a ship hanger, one that was largely unused and rarely occupied. The two had set up in a corner, beneath a large spacecraft, where they could video record without being caught. Considering she was being held as a prisoner until a few hours ago, Tak seemed to be in decent health. She looked tired, and perhaps a bit thinner than she was previously, but otherwise unharmed.

Disconnecting her from the Irken hive -mind had been a huge feat, but it was the only way they could get her off of the Massive without her being tracked. Skoodge had given her the nanobots to get the Irken issued nanos out of her system, and Shiv had managed to switch her profile in the Irken compendium with another female Irken who had recently died, making it seem as if Tak had been executed. Dib was near convinced Shiv had killed someone under her command to make this possible, but he wasn't about to complain.

As it was, Tak was a completely different Irken according to the Massive, and the “real” Tak was deceased, Shiv still maintained her title as Captain, and Dib and Skoodge were still unknown to the Irken populace, other than being pirate insurgents. That, though, seemed to be where the good news ended.

“Listen, if we do this we're just signing our death warrants,” Shiv hissed into the camera, her pale pink eyes narrowed into slits. Skoodge sucked his teeth and threw his arms up.

“If we do not infiltrate now, we will never have another chance. You know as well as I that the bonding ceremony is irreversible,” Skoodge bit back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know that if we do this, the Tallest will never stop looking for us, never let up on the chase,” Tak stated solemnly, her eyes harder than they had been before her capture, “ and if they catch us-”

“They'll kill us,” Shiv finished sharply, putting herself between Tak and the camera.

The conversation continued like this for a few minutes, and with every second that ticked by Dib became more and more anxious. Finally, the ball of anxiety in his stomach exploded, and Dib shot up from his seat and strode towards Skoodge and the camera.

“Listen,” Dib began, voice a bit louder than he intended. “I...I know this is a lot to ask. I know that, so...you guys don't need to help me,” he continued. Shiv and Tak were staring at him with a frightening intensity, and Dib had to swallow and look away. “I am going to get to Zim...no matter what. I don't care about what's in the way,” Dib grit out, finding his courage again as he brought his eyes back to meet the camera. “This mission is dangerous, but I'm going through with it. If you feel like you can't...then that's fine, don't do it.”

As Dib finished, the two girls exchanged looks and Dib could see there was a silent conversation occurring. After a few agonizingly silent moments, Shiv heaved a deep sigh.

“I...we will help,” she grumbled, looking away when Tak rested a hand on her shoulder. A huge sigh rushed out from Dib's lips before he could stop it.

“Good...great!” he breathed, feeling reinvigorated. “Now, let's get back to our plan.”

*

When Zim awoke Kei was gone. Rolling over onto his side, Zim could only stare at the wall. What in Irk's name had he done? What was going on with his life... So many strong emotions crashed and swelled within his chest that Zim felt completely numb, too overwhelmed to really process anything. It was all too much. His coronation was happening in less than 24 hours, his best friend could possibly be dead, Tallest Purple was surely plotting something, Zim had an affair with Kei, an Irken he didn't even like, and soon Zim was going to be irrevocably tied to Tallest Red. Forever.

Twisting onto his back, Zim dug the heels of his hands into he eyes, willing his head to cease its infernal throbbing. After a few moments of intense self loathing, Zim sat up. No time for this, he had things to do.

Zim then took the most rigorous and perhaps most violent shower of his life, scrubbing himself clean of the past few days, donned his black outfit, then marched out the door. Kei had delayed his mission, and perhaps Zim had fallen for some sort of trap when sleeping with him, but he couldn't change that now. Striding down the halls, Zim couldn't help but think back and wonder as to why he was so easily swayed. Had he been apart from his people for so long that he was no longer able to read signals or properly protect himself from influence? Perhaps. Or maybe he had been drugged, system laced with something to make him more pliable... He will be more vigilant henceforth.

Eventually Zim found himself back at his original destination, the Irken Archives. Waving the guards aside, Zim entered the large facility and began the daunting task of unearthing Gir's memory bank. Luckily, Zim always had a touch for technology. Although the Irken computing systems had changed since his banishment, Zim adapted easily enough, finagling his way into the the data storage. Frustration and desperation addled Zim's mind in equal measures as he worked, but through persistence and shear force of will, Zim finally found Gir's missing files.

Zim took a steadying breath and inserted a drive of his own design into the computer he was using and began downloading the files, nervously side-eyeing his surroundings every so often. After the download was completed Zim hurriedly snatched out the drive and all but ran back to his room. Door hissing closed behind him, Zim dashed over to a small closet where Gir had been residing. The floor was littered with crumbs and wrappers, the little robot totally entranced in some silly smeetling television show.

Zim knelt down and gently pried the top of Gir's skull up and inserted the drive, Gir not even blinking during the process. Snapping Gir's metallic head closed, Zim sat back and watched as a tremble rippled over the small robot's body, the information from the drive flooding back into Gir's memory banks. The process would take a few moments, so Zim sat back and anxiously waited. Then, like a crack of thunder, a hammering knock on Zim's door tore him from his peaceful silence. Shooting to his feet, Zim tucked Gir back into the small closet and shut the door, then swallowed, making his way to the door. It couldn't already be time, could it?

Door hissing open, Zim felt his stomach turn leaden as he gazed up at a small troupe of royal escorts, crested with red insignias on their armor. The group all gave a small synchronized bow of their heads before the captain stepped forth.

“Smallest Zim, it is time to begin your preparations for the ceremony,” he said, voice devoid of emotion, so clearly ignorant to Zim's turmoil. Knowing there was to be no escape, Zim simply nodded and allowed the door to close behind him. He could only hope that he would be allowed to see Gir one more time before he was to be given away.

*

Red stood in one of the grand foyers residing inside his tower atop the command ship and waited with practiced patience as a small team of Irken servants bustled about his legs. Measurements and adjustments were calculated and taken as the servants flitted about beneath him as they made their final notes for his ceremonial garb. As he stood stoically Red couldn't help but allow himself to feel a bit of joy. Truly, he could scarcely believe this was happening. For so long he had dreaded that Zim, his Zim, would never return to him, yet in less than a cycle the two would be bonded. Fear and anger had muddled his thoughts and shadowed him for so many moons at the thought that Zim could be hurt, or Irk forbid, erased, but all that had ceased.

Red would finally be able to give Zim the life and the protection that he deserved. The life Red had yearned to give him since their fated meeting at the academy. Yet, his damnable position as leader had interfered and forced Red to excommunicate his smallest before they could really begin to live as one. So many had told him it was for the best, his smallest was defective, he could be replaced. Those phrases seemed to quite as after each utterance Red had executed the blasphemers on the spot. How dare they?

Even now, though, as Red allowed himself this happiness he couldn't help but feel anxiousness too. Something was off, yet he couldn't figure out precisely what. With the resistance force attacking more and more of the Irken settlements and fleets, Red was forced away from Zim yet again. In fact, Red had hardly anytime to speak with his Smallest as the enemy forces became more emboldened by the hour, yet Red knew something was bothering Zim. In the brief moments they were allowed to interact Zim had seemed...unhappy...perhaps even panicked.

Letting out a soft sigh, Red supposed he couldn't blame his Smallest. Surely, it had to be stressful being thrust back into Irken life after spending so long on a terrible, peasant planet. Mayhaps Zim was even...homesick for this planet... A distressing thought, but Red would not begrudge Zim his affections for Earth. Zim had not chosen to go there, after all. Silently, Red swore he would find the source of his Smallest's unease and put it to rest after the completion of the ceremony. He adored Zim, after all, and only wished for his health and happiness. Maybe he wasn't displaying that properly...No matter. Red would ensure Zim would want for nothing as soon as they were bonded.

Unfortunately, that was not the only troubling occurrence as of late. Daring a sideways glance, Red narrowed his eyes towards the corner of the room. Purple was lounging atop a cushioned love seat, idly popping small candies into his mouth as he read a report of some sort, seemingly unbothered. Sliding his eyes back to his front, Red could not help but give a momentary scowl. He knew this to be untrue.

Ever since Zim's fated return to the Massive Purple had been acting damn well manic, content one moment and seething the next. While his ruling partner and friend had always been somewhat volatile, Red knew that this was somehow different. What really concerned Red, almost frightened him, was the thought that Purple was upset with _him..._and was plotting something as a consequence. 

There had been times in the past where it seemed like Purple may have harbored certain...feelings that were unapproved of by the Irken council and Red feared that Zim's return had rekindled these forbidden thoughts that had long sat dormant in Purple's enigmatic mind. 

Whatever the matter, it needed to be settled, because Red had no intentions of being apart from Zim any longer. 

*

“Okay, so, it's like a ball?” Dib asked skeptically. Shiv narrowed her eyes through the monitor and frowned.

“Yes, and this is why Shiv and I will be infiltrating the ceremony in our formal wear, and why you two must remain onboard the ship until we have Zim in our possession,” Tak replied smoothly, trying to explain the full plan to Dib. 

“And once Tak and Shiv have Zim, they will activate the teleportation device and, hopefully, will be beamed aboard the ship,” Skoodge continued as he tinkered with an unknown device. 

“And that's when we high tail it the fuck out of here?” Dib finished, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but it is highly likely that Shiv and I will be injured, as there will certainly be some sort of fight, so please be prepared to escort us to the med bay,” Tak added in her usual prim tone as Shiv nodded grimly by her side. 

“Got it,” Dib murmured, feeling no small amount of guilt at the thought of the girls being hurt but...this was for Zim. 

“Alright, we have to go get ready for the...ball,” Shiv stated in her soft yet domineering voice, “we will be in communication_.”_ And with that, the two girls logged off. Dib sat back in his seat and eyed Skoodge who was a mirror image of Dib's own worried face. Between them was a silent message.

We have one shot. 

*

Zim's insides continued to twist in and out of knots as he was escorted to an extravagant tailors shop, further led into the back to a large private room. Several seamstress Irkens emerged with large swaths of fabric and began spreading out all of the materials needed to assemble Zim's ceremonial garb. As his arms were raised and feet were lifted Zim was lost in thought. 

In his younger years he wished for this moment more so than any other...to be on the precipice of bonding with Tallest Red...his Vermeil...it was like a dream. Except now, Zim wasn't sure this was even what he wanted. But...he did...care for Red...deeply. 

Sighing, Zim just wished he could have a moment with Red to himself, just so he could explain how he was feeling. The issue was, though, Zim wasn't sure he even knew how he felt. 

“_Arms up, your Smallest,” _an irken handmaiden instructed, pulling Zim from his thoughts. Blinking, Zim looked down to see what it was he was actually wearing. The outfit was quite...lavish. Zim had to be wearing four layers of silken robes alone, not to mention the sashes across his middle. All the linens were thin to the point of nearly being sheer, so his silhouette wasn't bulky, but it did give off an air of elegance. The base layer was a sheer white, the second a deep green, the third golden, and the final layer was a beautifully hewn obsidian robe, embroidered with intricate designs and delicate patters of galaxies wreathed in swirling stars. Blinking, Zim couldn't help but be taken aback. The closest he had ever come to wearing something this formal was the Irken Academy Graduation Gala, and even then it had been a simple outfit. Nothing compared to this. 

“_Smallest, it is time to apply your facial cosmetics,” _a soft spoken Irken stated demurely. Somewhat surprised, it took Zim a moment to nod his head, allowing the servants to go about their new task. 

Three handmaidens then led Zim down from his pedestal and over to a large vanity, another servant bringing over a sizable box. 

“_Smallest, we must touch your face, apologies,” _the same servant murmured, once again catching Zim off guard. His people had never treated him with this kind of respect before. It would take some getting used to. 

Nevertheless, Zim acquiesced and allowed the servants to begin his facial regime. Sitting back in his seat, Zim sat perfectly still as a servant began rubbing a cream onto his cheeks, massaging it onto his skin as another servant knelt at his feet and began filing the claws on his toes. The grating felt terrible at first but after a few moments Zim found it almost enjoyable. Dipping a feathered brush into some powder, yet another servant began dusting his cheeks as a handmaiden began painting his eyelids.

While Zim usually relished attention, this was something he wasn't used to. For what seemed like hours the servants painted.

A stroke over Zim's eyelid, a feathering at his cheekbones, a sweep across his bottom lip. There had never been a bonding ceremony that Zim had witnessed, so he had no idea what lengths the traditions went, how extravagant, but this seemed like quite a lot. After a while, the sensations stopped.

“_Your Smallest, your look has been finished_,” a soft voice at his ear whispered, sounding somewhere between anxious and excited. Opening his eyes, Zim heard himself suck in a breath as he witnessed his visage in the mirror. 

At first Zim did not know where to ficus his attention, everything was so different, so foreign. Atop his lids was an impossibly sparkling gold, so brilliant it seemed the artists had feathered his skin with stardust. The gold slowly smoked outwards into a deep fuchsia pink shadowing that eventually faded high atop Zim's temples. His cheekbones shone with an iridescent glow they had not before, and it contrasted against the great fanning of Zim's coal black lashes. Lips shining in the white light of the vanity, they glimmered with a faintly rose sheen, a nice complement to Zim's verdant complexion. 

What was most noticeable, however, was the faint, yet extremely ornate, pale white V painted atop Zim's forehead. Swallowing tightly, Zim couldn't avert his eyes from his brow in the mirror. The sheer white V was all he could see. Once again, it had not graced his forehead since his graduation from the academy, when he still had equal standing with Red and Purple, many moons ago. 

Before Zim could comment on his appearance, a servant opened the large ornate box beside the vanity, revealing a trove of opulent jewelry. Eyes widening, Zim remained still as a maid reverently grasped a chained tiara like headpiece and gingerly set it atop Zim's head. Another busied themselves placing necklace upon necklace across Zim's collar, yet another slid bracelets on his wrists and ankles.A shiver reverberated down Zim's back as a young girl laces his antenna with gems and strings of crystals. 

The main casting of the jewelry seemed to be white gold, not quite silver and not quite gold, studded with maroon, garnet, and violet gems, the largest being a crimson diamond encrusted in the central headpiece. Zim wasn't sure how to feel.

On one hand, he adored the attention and reverence, it was something he had dreamed of for years...yet on the other, it felt foreign. Perhaps the switch from his people feeling complete disdain to adoration was simply too harsh. Blinking suddenly, Zim realized the the servants were bowing in a direction behind him. Narrowing his eyes, Zim turned his head, swinging his chains and jewels harshly.

“_Hello, Comate.”_

Scowl intensifying, Zim sat back in his seat and tilted his chin upwards, coolly replying, “..._Kei.”_

*

“Block!”

Dib's ribs sang in protest as he failed to dodge away from a sharp jab, Shiv's nails scratching marks into his protective clothing. Panting, Dib stepped back and wiped the sweat from his brow. Dib had agreed to a short sparring match before the ceremony infiltration, hoping to learn a few quick things about Irken hand to hand combat from Shiv incase a fight became unavoidable.

Huffing, Shiv cocked her hip to one side and propped her hands atop them, giving Dib an unimpressed look.

“I told you, they're going to go for your torso, that's where a lot of your organs are,” she admonished, one brow raised as her pale pink eyes tracked Dib. Shooting her a glare, Dib straightened up and slicked his hair back, his cowlick immediately springing back into place. The two had been sparring for about an hour, Shiv having come back onto the ship to make sure Skoodge's teleportation device worked properly. Shiv had been all too eager to agree to the sparring session when Dib had suggested it to her, baring her sharp teeth in glee.

Oddly enough, Shiv had insisted on changing into her sparring attire, which Dib didn't even know was a thing. Apparently Irken practiced their fighting techniques quite often, which Dib supposed made sense since they were such an invasive race. Still, it was odd to see so much skin. The outfit was just a a tight black, short sleeved top that revealed just a sliver of midriff before disappearing into matching black shorts. A typical workout outfit, but Dib was used to seeing Irken wearing full gloves, tights, and boots.

What was truly offsetting, though, wasn't the clothing, it was what was left bare. Dib had mentally made the comparison of Irken's bodies to dolls, but this really was something else entirely. At the joints of her elbows, ankles, and knees were odd spherical like shapes, almost exactly like a ball jointed doll. They weren't as obvious as a porcelain doll's joints might be, obviously covered in a layer of skin and tissue, but they were clearly different from human limbs. Dib supposed it made sense, the Irken were humanoid like insect...alien...things. Still, though, it was so different from a human body, yet not disgustingly different that it was a bit unsettling. Like the uncanny valley, but real, right before him.

What really bothered Dib about it though...was that he never saw Zim this way. Zim was always wearing sweaters, tights, gloves, so many layers that Dib could never see any of Zim's bare skin. Just the thought made him blush.

As if reading his mind, Shiv stalked over to Dib and grabbed his wrist, slapping it over her elbow. Startled, Dib shot her a questioning look.

“Your best bet at disarming or harming an Irken will be to go for the joints,” Shiv instructed in her deceptively soft voice, pointing to her own shoulder, then wrist. “Truly, I do not believe that in a fair fight you would win, but if you can at least momentarily halt their limb's function, you can do a little damage,” she finished, casually tossing Dib's wrist away. Frowning, Dib rubbed his wrist.

“Why not go for your Pak? Isn't that your most vulnerable spot?” he asked, thinking back to a few of the Irken intricacies Zim had taught him. At that Shiv scowled, narrowing her pastel pink eyes until they were slits.

“Mh,hm, yes, well unlike _your _species,” she sneered, placing a hand over her chest emphatically, ” the Irken race actually has defensive measures for our vulnerable body parts.” Quirking an eyebrow, Dib was about to make a smart remark but before he could get the words out Shiv's sharp fingernails were pressed firmly into his neck, his windpipe snugly nestled between her fingertips.

“Unlike _you, _leaving your oh so vulnerable neck out for anyone to squeeze,” Shiv murmured viciously, a dangerously playful glint in her eyes. Dib laughed nervously and took a step back, rubbing his neck. Snickering softly under her breath, Shiv placed her hand back atop her hip.

“You could try to attack an Irken's pak, but just be aware that the legs we keep compressed inside them will respond, and their only function is to ensure survival off the pak host,” she sighed, gesturing over her back to her own pak. “You've spent extensive time with that little Irken, Zim, so I'm sure you've seen his pak legs a few times,” she finished, eyeing Dib with thinly veiled curiosity. Nodding, Dib recalled the long, metallic legs the Irken kept hidden within their backs, the “feet” of the legs nothing more than huge blades, much like a praying mantis' arms. Huffing glumly, Dib carded a hand through his hair.

“So my only options for combat are to try and break joints? What about shooting them?” he asked, trying not to be frustrated or discouraged.

“Well, shooting is always an option,” Shiv shrugged with a smirk. “It's just doubtful you'll kill anyone without some significant fire power. Irken's have regenerative properties, you know.” Thinking for a moment, Dib turned to Shiv and asked, “Why don't I show you what I have?”

Surprisingly, Shiv's eyes lit up and she clasped her elongated hands together in gleeful gesture that would have been cute if it had been anyone else.

“Oh, a weapon show case, how fun,” she cooed, and thus she followed Dib back to his room. Tugging out a large trunk, Dib tossed off the lid and began arranging the guns on his bed, all while Shiv watched in contemplative silence. She would occasionally pick up a gun, turn it over and hum to herself before placing it back down. To Dib's surprise, Shiv took a special interest in what looked to be like a pretty average looking scify revolver, especially since there were much bigger artillery available.

After arranging everything, Shiv was still eyeing the revolver and Dib couldn't help but question it.

“Hey, you know I have bigger guns, right?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. Snorting, Shiv cut her eyes over to him before flicking them back to the gun.

“Bigger doesn't always equal better, you know....luckily for you,” she quipped back in a patronizing tone, before standing straight, gun still in hand. “Of course you wouldn't know a good thing when you see it,” she sighed under her breath, presenting the revolver to Dib. “This is a exquisitely rare model of fire arm called the Black Star, it is by far the best weapon you own,” she informed Dib with a haughty tone, dropping the gun into Dib's open palm.

“...'Black Star'...?” Dib parroted, turning the sleek ebony gun over in his hand, really examining it now. He had just happened to pick it out of the one pirate ship because he thought it looked cool.

“M,hm,” Shiv hummed in reply, pointing one of her sharp nails to the revolver, “it has the ability to crush matter within its chamber and fire off rounds that completely absorb whatever it penetrates. It doesn't desegregate it, it actually destroys and absorbs it entirely, like a black hole,” she informed Dib.

“Woah,” Dib mumbled, turning the gun over in his hand with a new found appreciation. As Shiv sifted through his remaining artillery, Dib opened the chamber and inspected it.

“So, I can just put bullet casings in this and the weird compression chamber will do its black hole thing?” he asked, grimacing at his lack of articulation.

“Yep,” Shiv replied, popping the “p” like bubblegum. Then she straightened and began making her way to the door.

“Listen, I have to go get ready for the Ball...Dib,” she began softly, her voice more serious than Dib had heard it before, and she even used his actual name, which had him on edge.

“Even if we get Zim, the Tallest won't ever stop trying to kill us. They could eradicate your entire planet. I just need you to know what it is you're risking. After we get Zim, Tak and I are going to go into hiding. I suggest you heavily consider your options.” And with that, Shiv left Dib alone in the dark and with his thoughts.

*

Every nerve in Zim's body was on edge as Kei slowly strode his way over to them.

“_Leave us, please,” _he ordered softly, waving away the servants. Zim narrowed his eyes and wondered if the servants would stay if he asked...who had more authority? But he opted out, angry and curious as to what Kei had to say. The servants scurried away and left the two smallest alone in the dressing room. Kei slowly made his way over until he stood in front of Zim, partially obscuring the vanity.

“..._You look quite beautiful,” _Kei stated softly, his cyan eyes drifting over Zim's face and body, all covered in finery. This caught Zim off guard but he quickly recovered, still on high alert.

“_What is it that you want?” _Zim snapped coldly, in no mood to play these games. Kei eyed him them, really looked at Zim, almost seeming to look through him entirely.

“..._Do you love Tallest Red_?” Kei asked after a moment, his stormy gaze unflinching. Blinking, Zim narrowed his eyes and snarled.

“_What is this tripe, how-”_

“_Would you do anything for him?” _Kei continued, leaning back but keeping his icy pale eyes locked with Zim's. “_Devote yourself to him, no questions? Because if not, there is no point in explaining what I do or why, or what I want because you could never understand,”_ he finished cooly, crossing his arms over his slim chest. Zim swallowed thickly. He couldn't find the words to respond to Kei. Giving Zim an unimpressed grimace, Kei pushed himself away from the vanity and began making his way back towards the door. 

“_I urge you to find the answers to those questions, comate, and quickly, because there are forces at work, and things shan't be getting easier from here,” _Kei called over his shoulder, white cape swirling behind him. Zim stared after him silently, watching him exit without another word, before letting out a breath Zim didn't know he had been holding. 

Looking down at his hands, Zim curled and uncurled his fingers, watching the many rings and bangles sparkle in the low light. 

Zim...did love Red. At least he used to...with every fiber of his being. He just wasn't sure he felt the same way anymore. That being said, Zim didn't feel comfortable saying he didn't love Red either. Red was a part of Zim, and always would be. They were made for one another. Sighing, Zim clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, imagining it was Red's hand his fingers were intertwined with and not his own.

Yes. Yes Zim did love Red. But would he perform his wishes without question? That had yet to be seen. 

Opening his eyes, Zim sat back and covered his mouth, brow furrowed in intense thought. What the hell was Kei up to? Why would he come in here and spit that cryptic warning to Zim? More importantly...what about Kei would Zim not understand? Thinking back, it seemed as if Kei was implying that Kei was doing what he was doing out of an intense love of Tallest Purple...and if that was the case...just what in Irk's name was Purple planning?

*

Red watched silently as Pur poured them both a glass of wine and sauntered over, handing over a chalice that was filled much higher than protocol usually called for. Something was wrong with Purple, but as usual, Purple was choosing to be secretive and just drag Red along with every passing whim. Usually, Red would permit this frivolous and petulant behavior, but this was his chance to bond, permanently, with his smallest. Red would not allow any disturbances. Swirling the deep crimson liquid in his cup, Red brought it to his lips and gazed out one of the windows into the dark blackness of space.

“_Are you looking forwards to tonight's festivities?_” Red asked quietly, gently throwing out bait to see what he could catch. As expected, Purple paused, for just an instance, before smiling coyly back at Red. 

“_Ah, you know me,” _Purple sighed, waving a hand theatrically, “_I do enjoy a feast.”_ Red met Purple's eyes and the two had a silent stare down, neither one backing away until Red sighed and set his glass aside.

“_So, do you plan on telling me what it is that's been bothering you so?” _Red asked bluntly, leveling his gaze to his partner. For a moment, just an instant, Red saw pure fury glaze over Purple's usually cool eyes, but it was quickly replaced with a gaze that was dangerously coy. 

“_I'm just happy for you, Ver,” _ he began sweetly, his voice dripping with derision. “_It must be nice to finally claim Zim as your own, and not have to worry about him sleeping around with others anymore.” _Red couldn't help but let his mouth turn downwards into a restrained snarl.

“_'Anymore', was it?” _Red pressed sharply, very aware he was playing into Purple's hands, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. This needed to be settled. Trap activated, Purple's face split into a spiteful grin, his smile all teeth and half lidded eyes. 

“_Anymore, yes,” _Purple cooed, continuing to circle around Red as he remained stoically rooted in place. 

“_Zim is such a free spirit, you know, you can't begrudge him his passing playthings,” _Purple laughed, shrugging as he waved his chalice to and fro. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Red fought to keep his composure. The issue with being beside someone for as long as he had Purple was that they learned just what it was that sent the other over the edge.

“_Say what you mean,” _Red ground out, tiring of these games Purple oh so loved to play. Purple sneered in response, his deep violet eyes catching Red's.

“_Was that an order, your grace?” _he jeered, striking a coy pose. Red had enough. Whirling around, Red snatched each of Purple's wrists from the air and pinned them above his head, slamming Purple's back into the cool glass of the window. Eyes almost comically wide, Purple looked back at Red with utter astonishment, the wine filled chalice falling from his grasp to spill across the floor as Red slung him to the side. Yes, when it came to playing mind games, Red would admit that Purple held the advantage, but when it came to simple brute strength...well, the results spoke for themselves. Purple didn't even try to wrench away. He knew it was fruitless. Instead Purple stared maliciously back into Red's narrowed eyes, the two inches away as Red held Purple's slim wrists limply to the side.

“_What the hell do you think you're doing?” _Purple spat venomously, violet eyes alight with fury. 

“_I could ask you the same thing,” _Red murmured back darkly, not breaking their locked gaze. Chest rising in stuttering breaths, Purple stared deep into Red's eyes for what felt like entirely too long, his enigmatic look never slipping. Then Purple went almost limp, the fight leaving his body as he tipped his head back against the glass and laughed softly. Instead of being mirthful, the sound was bitter and hollow, and weak, and it upset Red on a level he couldn't quite articulate. Sighing, Purple glanced back to Red, and his half lidded, sad gaze called memories from their nights at the academy to the forefront of Red's mind.

“_Do you...have any idea what it's like to be like this?” _Purple questioned quietly, his tone a mix of accusatory and pleading. Confused, Red remained silent. Screwing his eyes closed, Purple tipped his head back once again so he was gazing out the window into the starry kaleidoscope of space. 

“_To have absolutely everything, except for the one thing you desire?” _Then Purple fell silent, as he must have known what he had just spoken was one step too far. Red's eyes widened and then he wrenched away from Purple as if their contact physically burned him. 

“_No,” _Red stated darkly, eyes narrowed, antennae shaking. Purple remained against the wall, looking to the side.

“_Vermeil, listen, I just-”_

“_No!” _Red barked, gulping in a shaky breath before whirling around and stalking towards the door. Just before he passed through it he took a steadying breath and turned, addressing Purple.

“_I am bonding with Zim **tonight**, and you will attend, and it will go uninhibited,” _ Red began, using a domineering tone he normally reserved for lesser beings, never his equal. _“Once Zim and I are joined, we can discuss...this, but not tonight, and you will never breathe a word of this to mysmallest,” _Red finished, beginning to form a headache from the intensity at which he was furrowing his brow. Purple stared back at him, his face a strange myriad of hurt and fury, and perhaps something more that was too far buried beneath lies to see. After a moment, Purple pushed himself off the wall. 

_ Tonight, hm? Well, I'll be sure to send my gift in early,”  _ he replied coolly, but Red could see the way Purple's antennae quivered in anguish. Closing his eyes, Red wordless turned and left Purple to be alone. 

*

“How did you even manage to put this on?” Dib questioned disbelievingly, eyeing the getup Shiv had donned for the gala. It was black, because of course it was, but Dib believed it could more accurately be called a collaboration of ribbons instead of a dress. Several straps of fabric criss crossed their way across her pale chest and wove their way down her abdomen until disappearing at the apex of her legs into a floor length skirt with a multiple thigh high slits. The way the ribbons crossed made two distinct diamond shapes out of the negative space, a smaller just under her breasts and a larger that revealed Shiv's navel. Her back was nearly completely exposed, and the ridiculous slits in the skirt of her dress was only made a little less outlandish by the fact that Shiv was wearing thigh high stiletto boots that encompassed almost the entirety of her legs. Even the boots ended in the same cross crossing ribbon pattern atop her thigh. 

What was really perplexing Dib wasn't the dress, however, it was what it just barely covered. Shiv had modest swells on her chest that resembled human breasts, and here Dib thought that Irken didn't have them. Languidly turning his gaze to the monitor, Dib eyed Tak's outfit. She was wearing something much more practical and much more...Tak. It was a simple, yet elegant evening gown that was a beautiful silken midnight purple that adhered to Tak's slim figure nicely. And, again, it seemed Tak had breasts too, though not quite as evident as Shiv's. Maybe he had never noticed because usually Irken's wore thick sweater like material, or perhaps because the vast majority of his encounters with Tak had been when they were children, and with Shiv she was usually trying to kill him. 

Dib kind of wanted to ask what the function of breasts were on a species where all sexes could give birth, even though hardly any of them did in the first place, but he couldn't see that conversation going very well.  _ Hey, Shiv, nice rack, are they real? _ Surely Shiv would either smack him unconscious, or perhaps worse, offer Dib the chance to see them up close. Prodding the inside of one of his snake bite piercings with the tip of his tongue, Dib adverted his eyes back over to Skoodge who didn't seem at all bothered by the girls or their striking evening attire. Perhaps, unlike Dib, one gender was all that appealed to him, or maybe even none at all

After adjusting the fabric over her bust, Shiv turned to Dib and gave a coy smile.

“How do I put it on? Oh, sweetling, I'm used to being strapped,” she purred playfully, her sharp teeth gleaming in the light of the ship.

“Oh god,” Dib laughed, and ducked his head as his cheeks heated. Seemingly satisfied with Dib's reaction, Shiv turned from him and began whispering something to Tak through the monitor, since Tak was still aboard the Massive. 

After sobering up from thinking about the logistics of Irken's strange doll like bodies, Dib turned to his two companions. 

“Hey...so, what happens at this ceremony?” he asked quietly, frowning as both Shiv and Skoodge turned to eye him. After a moment, Skoodge swiveled back to his work.

“You tell him,” Skoodge muttered while he began tinkering with a small fire arm. Shiv sighed and strode her way over to Dib, the fabric of her dress teasingly swaying away from her full pale figure. She stopped just before Dib and sat down heavily next to him, resting a finger atop her bottom lip as she thought. 

“How to explain...well, firstly, there are things you would expect at a ball or gala, lot's of eating, drinking, and dancing, but I'm sure that's not what you're worried about,” she trialed off softly, her pale bubblegum eyes watching Dib from beneath a fan of dark lashes. Dib mutely nodded, his stomach beginning to twist in knots. 

“Hmm,” Shiv hummed, turning her eyes back away from Dib, “well, the actual bonding ceremony is very...intimate. It's not something anyone in my lifetime has ever seen. The dominant, which is, of course, Almighty Tallest Red, will offer themselves to the subservient. This is a symbolic leveling of the hierarchy, so to speak. By the dominant offering themselves, it not only puts them in a spot of vulnerability, it allows the other partner to reject them, giving the subservient the power. After the offer, assuming the parter accepts, the two will begin the bonding.” Shiv cut her eyes over to Dib to see if he was keeping up and when he ushered her on, she continued. 

“I don't know if I can adequately translate how significant this is to our people. Tallest Red is the most powerful being in the known universe, he bows to no one...and yet....well, anyways. They will take a ceremonial blade, one carved from a very precious gem known as a hearthstone or Soulrend, named thusly because it absorbs the blood of whoever it impales and changes colors accordingly. First, Almighty Tallest Red will take the blade and thrust it into Zim's heart, and the-”

“He's going to stab Zim?!” Dib cried out, eyes widening in disbelief. Shiv scowled at Dib and sighed, clearly agitated.

“Really, human, you are so unromantic. Yes, Zim will be cut with the blade, in a vulnerable part of his body. This is the ultimate show of trust, and it is symbolic that after this, Tallest Red shall never harm Zim again. Then, with the Soulrend now drenched in the subservient's blood, Zim shall return the favor and press the blade into Tallest Red's chest. When the knife is removed...the two shall sing their soul song and the wounds will heal. The vibrations of their song will harmonize perfectly and thus their cell replication shall hasten ten fold. Then, before the eyes of Irk, the two shall be bonded for all eternity.” Giving a soft sigh, Shiv made an oddly serene face. 

“To be bonded to your soulmate...an Emperor no less, well, it is a dream...” she murmured longingly, clearly blind to Dib's mounting dread. This was bad, this was so bad. It was awful enough when Dib thought the two were just getting married or something, but a blood pact with a magic rock?! The hell...Dib had to stop it, no matter the cost. 

*

From the highest tower on the Massive stood Red, slipping on his crown.

From deep within a hidden room stood Purple, putting a parcel into his sleeve.

In a room surrounded by lights and servants sat Zim.

In the dark of a room, hands trembling, sat Kei.

Dib stood at his post aboard the ship.

Tak glared out a window on the Massive.

Shiv tightened the grip on her knife. 

It was time. 

*

Zim could hardly breathe. He sat atop a small pedestal at the apex of an incredible staircase overlooking an impossible gallant ball room. Chandeliers sparkled and chimed overhead, reflecting lights from the many flowing icy fountains of wine that decorated seemingly every corner of the room. Ribbons of impossible size decorated the ceilings and every Irken that was not a slave was dressed in their greatest finery, gowns of every size and fabric swirling about the floor. From his perch high above the commoners Zim watched as they all gathered about the giant feasting tables, piled high with delicacies from every corner of the galaxy while servants milled about offering horderves and wine to the officials and invasion officers. 

There was a long winding line of Irken before Zim, each taking their turn to kiss his hand or even his feet, offerings theirs praises and grace before he is to be bonded. It was so surreal, Zim felt he must be in a dream. A month ago his people hated him, now they grovel at his feet...all because Red claimed Zim as his own. 

Purple sat in his throne atop a hovering balcony, dutifully watching over his subjects but the throne beside him was achingly empty. Red would not appear until it was time for the bonding and Zim was not sure if this eased his intense anxiety or intensified it. The lights suddenly dimmed and a spotlight was on the center of the dance floor, illuminating a lone Irken amidst a sea of others. After his eyes adjusted, Zim sucked in a sharp breath when he realized it was Kei.

Kei was, of course, dressed beautifully. His long shear gown looked as if it was made of glistening ice crystals, the beautiful white contrasting his stormy eyes nicely. He was adorned in all manner of silvery jewelry, and the dress dramatically cut out at the back. Raising a microphonic device to his lips, Kei began to speak. 

“_My follow Irken, welcome!”_ Kei called out, his voice ringing like a song as the huge crowd clapped for him, their applause just polite enough not to be thunderous. 

“_We are gathered here on our prestigious ship to celebrate a momentous occasion! One of our esteemed and magnificent Emperors has decided to share his life with us by bonding with his smaller!”_

Again, the crowd clapped but this time it was doubled with thunderous applause and cheers. Zim felt his face heat up and his heartbeat thundering inside his ribcage. Kei turned, crystalline dress chiming with the movement, and with a grand, sweeping gesture, motioned to Zim's seated figure. 

“_It is my honor and privilege to present to the Irken people, my comate and dearest friend, Zim!” _The crowd erupted into uproarious applause as Zim tried his best not to outright balk, before just barely containing a sneer. Dearest friend, eh Kei? 

Turning theatrically so his dress flowed about him in a dazzling cascade, Kei smiled graciously before dipping into a deep bow.

“_To commence the sacred ceremony, please allow me the highest honor of presenting **my **Tallest...everyone, please join me in a bow to our glorious Empire's crown...Almighty Tallest Purple!!”_

And with that Kei dipped into a beautifully graceful curtsey, his head bowed low, as the rest of the room bent at their waist or fell to their knees entirely. Zim kept his chin tipped upwards, eyes narrowed as he looked across the balcony to meet Purple's gaze. Purple cut his dark eyes to Zim for just a moment before he stood and raised his hand in the Irken salute. While Purple took no action, Zim knew his insubordination was not unnoticed. 

“_...Yes, thank you,” _Purple began, his smooth voice not sounding entirely sincere. _“I hope you have all been enjoying yourselves this evening...but let us delay no longer. To our people I present my other half...Tallest Red.” _Zim felt his heart stop before it resumed beating once again, thundering so loud in his veins he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. 

At the back of the massive ballroom a spotlight shone on a door...and in it stood Red. Slowly, elegantly, Red began to float forwards, through the parting crowd...towards Zim. Astonishingly, Red was not dressed in finery as Zim expected him to be. Instead, Red was wearing a very simple armor set, sans the chest piece. Instead, across his torso were thin white wrappings, almost like a toga. Zim had not seen Red so under dressed since their shared time at the academy, and was sure the crowd had never seen him like this at all.

Head up, back straight, shoulders taught, Red walked forwards with all the grace and air of a king. His crimson eyes were locked on Zim and they did not stray as he slowly made his way across the floor and began his assent up the stairs. As he passed Irkens of every status gasped and prayed, falling on hands and knees as their Emperor passed them by.

Zim watched in frozen awe as all the world faded into blackness, save for Red. His Tallest. Suddenly, a serene feeling over came him, as if he had been dropped into deep, warm water. Okay. He was okay with this. He could bond with Red.

He was brought back to the present when the crown gasped, as Red had deactivated his anti-gravitational belt just mere feet from Zim. Emperors were never to be seen touching the floor, as it was above them to grace the ground with their presence. Yet Red had quite literally stepped down for Zim. All Zim could do was mutely watch as Red came and stood before him. Slowly, an elderly Irken woman stepped forth, a shaman, her frame draped in all manner of bangles and chains.

“_Promised...stand and face one another,” _she instructed, her voice winded and raspy, as if scraping over bark. Compelled, Zim stood slowly, weighted down by his robes and jewelry, and faced his Tallest, craning his neck to meet his promised's eyes. 

The crowd was as silent as space itself. 

“_The Emperor will present himself,” _the shaman stated malevolently, and Zim felt his heart lurch. Red silently closed his deep crimson eyes and knelt down until he was on his knees before Zim. A few Irken cried out in dismay before they were silenced, as seeing an Emperor like this was most upsetting. Zim didn't dare look at Purple. Even on his Knees, Red was about the same height as Zim, which on some level amused him. Then Red opened his eyes to meet Zim's and time stopped.

Red's face was so vulnerable, so full of want, Zim actually gasped. This was...his mate. His soulmate. Zim had not felt this way, never like this, never so full of emotion and need in all his life. Suddenly, he felt as if he had been waiting for this moment ever since his conception. Then, the shaman woman stepped forwards.

“_The Smaller shall take the blade...and pierce the heart of his promised.”_

Gasps of horror were heard throughout the great hall. Zim shook, hand trembling as he reached out towards the shaman. A servant had presented her with a chest carved from moon rock, and she presented it in turn to Zim, opening the chest to reveal a white gemstone blade atop an ebony pillow. 

Shaking, Zim grasped the hilt if the knife. It was impossibly cold. Swallowing, Zim turned back to Red, his promised, who was looking at Zim as if he had hung all the stars in the sky. How could Zim have ever doubted him.

Closing his eyes, Zim steeled his nerve, and wrapped both hands around the large crystal blade. Opening them, he met Red's gaze and through him felt Red's thoughts. 

_ It is okay...do it.  _

Sucking in a breath, Zim tightened his grip and plunged the blade into the center of Red's chest, cutting through the white fabric. The knife got caught on Red's protective bone plates, but Zim shoved it through until the hilt hit Red chest. 

Irkens screamed. Many fainted. More had to be restrained. Zim felt tears well in his eyes and spill across his cheeks as deep violet blood began to blossom around Red's wound, staining the white fabric of his coverings. But Red remained stone faced, as if Zim has simply planted a kiss atop his heart.

“_Now the Smaller will make his sacred vow, and remove the blade,” _the shaman declared boldly. Swallowing, Zim parted his lips. 

“_I...I hereby declare this wound shall be the last I shall ever impart upon my bonded mate,” _Zim managed to force out, his voice much shakier than he ever thought possible. Then Zim wrapped his hands back around the blade...and wrenched it out. Blood splattered across Zim's gown and his face, dripping down to hang off his chains like priceless gems. Red let out a quiet grunt and Zim thought that sound alone might rend him in two. Shaking even more than before, Zim looked down to see the once white blade become darker and darker as Red's blood trickled off the tip. 

“_Now the Taller shall mirror their Smaller,” _the shaman bellowed, her time weathered body capable of even more volume than Zim himself. 

Breathing somewhat harshly, Red stood to his full height, deep fuchsia blood steadily pumping from his wound to flow down his armored dressings like an accursed river. Zim watched in awe as Red set his jaw and reached down benevolently and gently, ever so gently, took the knife from Zim's hands. Then, before Zim could blink, he felt a deep searing pain as Red plunged the knife into Zim's chest. Zim let out a choking gasp as the blade slid into him...then the entire ship erupted into chaos. 

*

Shiv had never been one for parties. She watched as her people talked and gossiped, downing their wine and swallowing their food. How dull. Sighing, Shiv glanced across the room to a far corner where Tak was, the other girl scouting out the crowd. Shiv's attention was momentarily stolen by a large Royal Guard who appeared to be flirting with her. Sadly, Shiv had other things planned for tonight. Waving the handsome boy away, Shiv sipped her wine and planned her attack. The festivities carried on until, hours later, Purple's Smallest took center stage. He began speaking and Shiv couldn't help but think that the slender boy looked exquisite tonight in his almost too sheer gown. Kei had always been a sultry little thing, and Shiv could definitely appreciate that. 

Wait, what? Did Kei just say commencement of the ceremony? No, no, no, that couldn't be right...tonight was just the celebratory ball, right? Suddenly on high alert, Shiv felt her pulse quicken when Tallest Purple stood from his throne and confirmed her growing fears. The Bonding had been moved up. It was happening right now. 

Sensing more than seeing Tak's panic stricken face, Shiv swore under her breath and began making her way towards the staircase, shoving people aside when she had to. Purple spoke and then the lights when dark as Almighty Tallest Red entered the ballroom. Shiv stuttered in her stride for a moment, frozen in awe as Tallest Red glided into the room in nothing but modest soldier's garb. His chest was almost completely bare. 

Suddenly, Shiv was not sure she could go through with this. She loved her Tallest, she didn't want to hurt him... Swallowing, Shiv shook her self out of her stupor and continued slinking up the stairs towards Zim. So much trouble over a little loud Irken. Tak would not be able to get as close as Shiv, due to Shiv being a high ranking officer who was favored by the Tallest for her murderous record, so this was all on Shiv. 

Dib and Skoodge were going insane in her earpiece, so Shiv grit her teeth and snatched it out, looking at nothing but the staircase.

If she did not stop the bonding ceremony now, then there would be no turning back. Red was atop the stairs now, side by side with Zim and Shiv had to look away as her Tallest knelt before Zim. Such shame was not deserved by Red, how dare Zim permit this. Petulant little welt.   


Snarling, Shiv continued to storm her way up, taking a minute firearm out of her boot. Skoodge said that this gun could freeze the area in a stasis bubble just as her rifle could while maintaining its small size...Shiv prayed he was right. 

Shiv was so close, but she had to actively cover her mouth as she let out a soft cry. Zim had stabbed Red. Furious tears prickling in her eyes, Shiv was suddenly wondering why on fucking Irk she was doing this. In fact, maybe she wouldn't do this...she loved her Empire. She loved her Tallest. Red was everything to her...he commanded her squad, she had obeyed him her entire life. 

Red and Purple's natural born right to rule had an effect on all Irken beneath them. All Irken wanted to serve their Emperors, they truly adored and love them...and Shiv was no exception. Being so close to Tallest Red...Shiv was finding she could not do harm upon him. Who was she to take away his mate? 

Having a moment of realization, Shiv looked out into the dark crowd until her eyes met beautiful swirling purple. Tak looked back at her and between all the spectacle and sound the two girls understood.

It was over. This was a fruitless endeavor. Biting her lip, Shiv took a step back and decided to watch the end of the ceremony...it was a once in a lifetime chance after all. The human would just have to understand...there really was nothing she could do.   


Just as Red was about to plunge in the knife, the entire ship rocked. Shiv stumbled and fell to the floor as a huge explosion blasted out part of the hall, Irken being flung this way and that. Rubble and glass scattered across Shiv's back, lacerating her exposed pale skin. She heard screams and crashing beneath the ringing in her head. Eyes wide and body alert, Shiv sprang to her feet but soon stilled in horror. 

A huge fleet of ships was floating outside the hole blasted into the ship. Snarling, Shiv sprung into action, as did her people, the Irken beginning to return fire with whatever arms they had on hand. Then, through the explosions and smoke Shiv heard the old shaman woman scream.

“_No, they mustn't, the bond is not complete!!”_

Turning, Shiv's blood ran cold as she caught the last few moments of Zim in Tallest Red's arms before Zim was suddenly teleported away. Tallest Red roared and the sound made Shiv's knees so weak she collapsed to the floor, as did all who shared her pigment. How could this happen? 

*

Zim gasped as he hit the floor hard, his chest searing in pain. Blood trickled out to gently pitter patter upon the cold black tiles. Hissing, Zim crawled to his knees and looked up, his face a mixture of rage and confusion.

“_Who the fuck are you?” _Zim spat out in his mother tongue. 

A small alien, about Zim's height stepped forwards. He was dark grey with strange curled horns and an odd accent. 

“_We,” _he began in his odd dialect of Irken, _“are the Resistance.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait, I do hate to keep you guys in suspense. Let me know what you thought and what you'd like to see next, I love constructive criticism. 
> 
> Would yall be interested in a Spicy Scene with Dib?  
Would yall be interested in a Spicy Scene with Tak or Shiv? Or Both??  
Lemme know. 
> 
> I want you guys to visit me in Animal Crossing!!!  
My Friend Code is SW-2135-2603-3336  
If you wanna hang out, please friend me on your Nintendo Switch and we can be AC Buddies!  
If for any reason you wanna send me gifts, any Gothic or Spooky is my fav, but please dont feel obligated to. 
> 
> I would love to hang out with you guys!
> 
> Finally, I would just like to say thank you for all the support, you guys are what keep me writing. Thank you for your wonderful comments, and Ill see you next chapter!


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